Creature Comforts
by mascaret
Summary: The backstory of 'When Kneazles Attack.' Set during Voldemort's first reign.
1. Default Chapter

Reposted by request

A/N Thank you so much Maria for taking the time to beta this.

Don't get used to the Voldemort plot. It's going to get dropped really quickly. It is just being used as a catalyst.

Creature Comforts

Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shook his head. Though there were easily a dozen people in his office, the words he spoke were not intended for anyone in particular.

"We are missing something. It is something so simple, so obvious. I know it is, but I just can't figure out what."

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded too tired to properly convey her intended sarcasm. "You mean something obvious like your source of information is faulty?"

Albus had a suspicion that when Alastor Moody spoke up to agree with Minerva's words, there was something more than just the courage of the auror's convictions motivating him. It wasn't that he doubted the auror meant the words, he just wasn't sure the man would be so adamantly agreeing if it was someone other than Minerva who had said it.

"She's right. You haven't told any of us about your new information source. Maybe, the 'friend' who warned you isn't such a friend after all? He could be feeding you false information on You-Know-Who's instructions. Trying to divert resources to the wrong causes, or wear us down by keeping us on constant high alert."

James Potter turned his neck several times, producing a painful cricking noise. "Well, if wearing us down is the plan, it's working. When is the last time anyone here has slept?"

Albus suspected the man's young wife began massaging James's neck more from a desire to keep him from continuing to make the noise than anything else.

Frank Longbottom was always the voice of hope. "Maybe nothing happened because we frightened them off? Whatever they had planned, it was called off because we were so well mobilized?"

Alice Longbottom was a bit more practical. She threw one of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans at the back of her husband's head. It ricocheted off of Frank and hit Peter Pettigrew who was asleep on the floor. Peter awoke with a start and scrambled to get out his wand.

"I'll get the one on the left!"

Sirius Black was sitting next to Alice and helped himself to a handful of her beans. With each syllable, he hurled a bean at Peter. "Worm-tail-I-am-the-one-on-the-left-!"

Peter had not been the only one asleep. Sitting on a sofa Pomona Sprout, Rolanda Hooch, and Filius Flitwick bore a great resemblance to fallen dominos given the way their heads rested on one another's shoulders.

Remus Lupin looked worse of all. He was working under the additional burden of having had his monthly transfiguration the night before this had all begun.

Albus wanted nothing more than to let all of them go home and to bed, but this was far too important. They had to figure out what it was they were missing. Maybe the lack of sleep was making him unreasonable, but he was absolutely sure they were overlooking something. He had never before in his life felt such a crippling sense of foreboding.

"Let's go over what we know one more time."

"Albus, whatever it is, we are not going to figure it out until we get some sleep. Sometimes the only way to see the answer is to get a little distance."

Alastor again offered his support for Minerva's words. "We can come back to this tomorrow with a fresh perspective."

Albus shook his head. He acknowledged the truth to the statement, but still he could not get past the dread that if they didn't figure it out tonight, tomorrow would be too late.

"Just once more. Then everyone can go home."

Several displeased moans could be heard, but they weren't as unhappy as those heard before an end had been in sight. Everyone was too tired to flinch as he said the name.

"According to the information I received late on Friday, Voldemort had something planned for Saturday. Voldemort hadn't yet given out any useful details, but he described what he had planned as 'a devastating blow to the people working against him.' Something to 'demonstrate his power, the futileness and the danger of working against him. A clear display that no one will be safe so long as he is opposed'."

James's words were slightly muffled by the hand that was supporting his head. "It is Monday now. That was…that was…how many days ago was that?"

Lily did the math for him. "Two days."

James's other hand went to help hold up his head. "Merlin, has it really been that long?"

Alice repeated the conclusion they had all come to days ago.

"Saturday was the day the Hogwarts Express took all the children home for the summer. So many of the people in the Order and the Ministry have children going to school here. What could be a more devastating blow to them than the loss of their children? I would hardly call an attack on a group of children a real display of power, but who knows how his mind works. As for, 'No one will be safe' - an attack on the children would show the lengths, the depravity You-Know-Who will go to. The people working against him are doing this to have a better world for their children than the nightmare he would give us. If he kil-"

Sweet Alice couldn't even bring herself to say it. "-Took away the children, it would make what we have been fighting for futile."

Frank again tried to offer hope. "I still think that was the plan. But we put together such a show of force, we made them reconsider. We had hit wizards, aurors, even professors in every compartment. The children were so well protected, they had no choice but to call it off."

Minerva disagreed. "How would they have known though? The real students were given assigned seats and not allowed to leave their compartments. Polyjuice potion was used so all of you could pose as students."

Minerva wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Two days later and I still have that foul sugary scent on me. I don't think my hands will ever feel not sticky again. Really, Albus you should have been the one pushing the candy cart."

Her voice was adamant now. "There was nothing to tip them off, unless…"

Albus finished the thought for her. "Unless Voldemort is not the only one with a spy in his midst."

A heavy, not at all sleepy silence hung over the room.

Alastor was the one to break it. "How confident are you of your man?"

For reasons ever becoming clearer, Albus had not revealed any information about his recently acquired source of information. "Alastor, I never said it was a man."

Peter was looking a little more awake now. "It's a woman then, or you just aren't saying? It might help us to know more about where the information is coming from."

When it became clear that Albus had no intention of imparting any information about the identity of his source, Alastor's questions moved on. "And you haven't had any contact since? Nothing to possibly clear up the meaning of You-Know-Who's words?"

Albus shook his head.

Sirius asked a question that sounded casual, but could have a darker intent. "Is that usual? How often are you normally in contact with this person?"

Sirius stopped to allow for an answer, but seemed to realize in the resulting silence that given the recent suggestion of a possible spy in their midst, seeming eager to ferret out information about Albus's informant might be misconstrued. "I only meant, if he or she usually is in contact with you more regularly, then that could be an indication in and of itself."

Remus seemed to pick up on Sirius's train of thought. "Perhaps your spy was suspected and given false information as a test. We reacted, so he was found out."

Lily's thought was closer to Albus's own. "Or the plan may only have been delayed for whatever reason. He or she is held up with the other Death Eaters, still working on it."

Albus tried to steer the conversation back. "What, if anything else, of significance was supposed to happen on Saturday?'

Rolanda and the other dominoes had awoken at last.

"Chudley Cannons played." She scowled. "I had to give away my tickets."

"There was a flower show in London." supplied Pomona.

Dumbledore frowned. "Yes, and Honeydukes had a sale, but I don't think it's that either."

Alastor threw out an idea of his own. "What if it wasn't the day that was important, what if it was the date?"

Albus nodded, happy for a useful suggestion. "Okay what is significant about June 20th in history?"

Quite a bit of silence followed this question. Albus decided he should either invite Binns to these meetings, or get a History of Magic Professor that wasn't so adept at getting people to fall asleep.

Minerva's voice was uncharacteristically unsure as she offered a suggestion. "Wasn't Wendelin the Weird burnt at the stake that day?"

Remus shrugged. "When was Wendelin the Weird _not _burnt at the stake? Queen Victoria ascended to the throne that day in 1837."

At least that got the suggestions going.

Filius was next. "Tennis Court Oath. Vive la France."

Frank shrugged. "Boxer Rebellion began with the assassination of the German ambassador to Peking."

Pomona chimed in as well. "Ethelred the Ever-Ready died in jail on that day in I forget what year."

Alice became excited. "I have his chocolate frog card. 'Famous for taking offense at nothing and cursing innocent bystanders.' Card says date unknown though."

Everyone stopped to take a minute to stare at Sirius after his suggestion. "Pirates of Penzance debuted as the first operetta on television in 1937."

Alice furrowed her brow while asking, "What's a television?"

Albus sighed. "Go home. If anyone thinks of anything don't hesitate to owl or Floo, regardless of the hour."

For people claiming to be so tired, most of them cleared out of the room quickly. Beside himself, Alastor and Minerva were the last two remaining. Alastor looked rather unsure of himself as he made a polite inquiry of Minerva.

"Since you mentioned last week you aren't staying at the castle for the summer, would you allow me to escort you home?"

The man was treading in dangerous waters and he knew it. "I know you can take care of yourself. It would be for my own peace of mind, not yours. You can't be too safe these days."

Albus could tell the smile Minerva gave Alastor in response was forced.

"Thank you, Alastor, but I have a few things to do before I leave."

Albus suspected there was an underlying meaning to Alastor's response.

"I don't mind waiting if you can just give me some idea of how long."

Minerva didn't look up to meet Alastor's questioning eyes, but he got the hint and took his leave after her next words.

"Too long, Alastor. Too long."

Always too concerned with order, despite her exhaustion Minerva took the time to banish the every flavor beans littering the floor. Or perhaps it was to put a little distance between her departure and that of her would be suitor. As she did head towards the door, despite his better judgment, Albus spoke.

"He's a good man, Moody. You should give him a chance."

Minerva's hand was on the door. As it paused there a moment, he could tell she was struggling internally on whether to respond. The line of her back wasn't quite as straight as it usually was. It had been a long few days for everyone and it would seem better judgment was not holding much weight of late. When she spoke, her voice was more sad than accusatory, but it was accusatory all the same. She didn't turn around to look him in the eye either.

"_You don't get to do that. You do not get to do that_."

"Minerva-"

"_You just don't get to do that. You cannot throw me out of your bed after fifteen years and then pick whose bed I go to next. You just don't get to do that_."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

She wasn't facing the door anymore. Instead, she was leaning against it with her hand behind her back, still on the knob. Her eyes didn't meet his. Not that he could blame her. He knew he had hurt her deeply, but he had felt it was necessary. And in time she would understand and appreciate it. Appreciate him for being the one to end the relationship that wasn't going to ever provide her with the things she wanted most.

"Did you tell him about us?"

At first he merely shook his head, but then he realized she still wasn't looking in his direction. "No, I didn't."

"But?"

He hesitated, but there was no sense in denying it. "Alastor asked me if I thought you were seeing anyone. I said no and I encouraged him to…"

The small smile she wore was not at all what he would describe as happy. "And were you also the one to encourage Kettleburn?"

His pregnant pause was answer enough for her. He could see her biting the inside of her mouth, literally biting back her words.

"Goodnight, Albus."

His words again made her pause at the threshold of the door.

"Minerva, we've talked about this before. You know I can't offer you what you want. It's too dangerous, especially now. You know if there was a way that I could, I would."

"Albus, you are a coward."

He had been called a great number of things in the course of his lifetime, but 'coward' had never before been one of them. Still, he had no right to deny it. "Maybe I am."

"You defeated the most powerful dark wizard of your lifetime and yet you are so unwilling to take a risk. You speak as if they were just the things I want, but they are what you want as well."

"Minerva, you know it isn't something as simple as a risk. Do you want to hear me say it again? Yes, I want you. Yes, I want to have children with you, but we both know it isn't as simple as that. I have enemies, powerful enemies. I have even before Grindelwald. Now with this new Lord Voldemort threat..."

He gave a sigh before continuing. The emotion in his voice was rising.

"If it were the normal risks in life that everyone has to face, accidents, disease, age, I would gather all of my Gryffindor courage and boldly charge ahead. But we both know it isn't that simple. If our relationship had become public knowledge, if we were ever to have children, it would be like declaring a direct challenge to my enemies."

Each wonderful year they had spent together, his love for Minerva had grown relentlessly. But with it had grown his sense of danger, the fear and worry of what would happen should his enemies, or even some of their less discreet friends and colleagues, become aware of their relationship, of the depths of his feelings for her.

Albus had tried to warn her away at the start of their relationship. He had told her of the limitations he had felt it necessary to place upon himself. He had spoken of the impossibility of their ever completely sharing their lives together and of never being able to create new life together. Minerva could be known at times to charge ahead imprudently, but he was confident she had carefully considered her options before deciding to pursue a relationship with him, regardless of his limitations.

And she had never protested or tried to change his resolve. No, not in words, but he had seen it in her eyes more than once. The regret, the longing whenever she saw another woman with a child.

His voice had a lifeless quality to it as he continued speaking. This idea was painful in an altogether different way than the idea of how his enemies might respond. "But that doesn't have to stop you from having all those things. Marriage. Children. Just not with me."

Minerva looked absolutely furious at him again. "_When did I ever say that I wanted those things? When did I ever tell you that I was unhappy with the way things were between us?"_

"Do you deny it? We have never lied to each other, Minerva. Can you honestly tell me this is the way you want things to stay? That you don't want to have children? A family?"

Indeed, Minerva was the one person that he could trust completely. Especially now, she was the only one he was sure would never betray him. He listened as, unwilling to lie to him directly, she changed the discussion to avoid his questions.

"So you get to decide what is best for me? I am supposed to just forget all the years we have spent together and just find someone else? Get married and start having babies so you can go on playing the part of the selfless martyr?"

Her words of fury had petered out into a more cutting voice of weary sadness.

"I have never wanted just anyone's babies, Albus. I wanted yours or none at all. And in case you haven't noticed, you aren't the only one being targeted. The Bones, the Prewetts, it's anyone who says no to him."

They were both exhausted and this was the same argument they had been having for months now.

"I still need you, Minerva. Right now, I need you more than ever. I am certain Voldemort has someone working for him in the Order. Too many times now our work, our plans, have ended in ruin. I had thought it was someone on the Ministry end of things, but recent events make me think otherwise."

Minerva nodded. "I thought it odd how little you have told Millicent Bagnold at the meetings of late."

"There still may be a leak in the Ministry, but even if there is, there is someone in the Order too."

"Do you have someone in particular in mind?"

Albus didn't hesitate at all before answering her. He was confident in Minerva and wanted her thoughts. "I suspect it may be one of the people that was in the room tonight. Which one, I am not certain."

Minerva frowned, apparently not happy with her own thoughts.

"The most obvious choice being Remus, because You-Know-Who is claiming to be willing to offer rights to werewolves that the Ministry is simply not willing to concede. But Remus would never be foolish enough to actually believe him. As soon as You-Know-Who gets what he wants, he will turn on the impure werewolves who supported him as well."

Albus shook his head at Minerva's refusal to say the word 'Voldemort', but did not interrupt.

"And then of course there are rumors about Sirius's brother being involved with Death Eaters. He just graduated, but already a few of the Slytherin group from his year have gone on trial. Which doesn't necessarily mean anything, as Sirius has never been the model Black that his parents wanted him to be. He was after all in Gryffindor, not Slytherin like his brother. Anyways, the rumors about his brother are at the moment, just that. Rumors.

Clearly it couldn't be Lily and I find it impossible to believe it would be James, given his feelings for Lily. Peter I don't see as being, well, bright enough to pull it off. If its Frank or Alice, then it's both Frank and Alice and a Ministry leak as well. Alastor is, well, Alastor. Which leaves the three sleeping beauties."

Minerva's lips twitched before she went on.

"Of course, I know it isn't me, which makes me have to ask the question. Albus, have you been passing information on to You-Know-Who?"

Albus had to laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation. The past few months he had missed desperately Minerva's particular humor.

"Do you remember Severus Snape? Slytherin student of the same year as James and the others?"

It was of course a ridiculous question. After the shrieking shack incident, Minerva had championed the young Slytherin over her own Gryffindor charge, Sirius. She had pressed even harder than Severus to have Sirius expelled, not an easy feat given Severus's rage. It had taken a intense campaign to get her to see his reasons against expelling Sirius.

Minerva frowned. "Yes, there have been a few rumors linking him as well."

Albus nodded. "They are true. Or were. And somewhat are."

Minerva was never slow to grasp an idea. "How long has he been feeding you information?"

"Almost a month now. He always was a bright boy. He may not be fond of muggles, but he knows if Voldemort ever succeeds in purging the world of those of impure blood, he will just turn on whoever is left."

An eyebrow went up. "And the possibility he might simply have had a change of heart and isn't merely trying to save his own skin has not occurred to you? Turning spy is, after all, twice as likely to get him caught."

Albus again smiled. He knew perfectly well what Severus's reasons for turning against Voldemort were. However, baiting her had always been a happy pastime for him and she knew it. "Well, of course there is that possibility as well."

Minerva shook her head at him, but he could see the smile in her eyes. He all too quickly made the mistake of breaking the mood. "It's late, Minerva. Your cottage hasn't been inhabited in years. You should just stay at the castle for the night. Deal with it in the morning."

It was a poor choice to point out the lack of use of her summer home, given the reason for it. Both staying at the castle had in the past provided a simple cover for their summers together. Again, she wore a smile that held no joy.

"I think I would rather do battle with a houseful of doxies than spend another night alone in Gryffindor Tower. I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Albus."

Lacking anything better to do, Albus retired to a fitful, entirely unrestful sleep.

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A/N Okay care to take a guess what else was supposed to happen the day that the students went home? I was trying to go for something so obvious it could easily be overlooked, particularly by a group of sleep deprived people.


	2. Chapter Two

Reposted by request

A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this.

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The light had not yet arrived in the western sky when a head appeared in the fireplace. Albus' slumber had been so restless that it would have been inaccurate to say that it was the slight popping noise in the next room that awoke him.

Alastor was so distracted, so preoccupied by whatever it was he was doing, that Albus noticed him before the auror realized he was being observed.

"Alastor?"

The usually stoic auror looked uncharacteristically emotional. He blinked too often and couldn't seem to locate his voice. When he finally found it, the usually brisk, concise man couldn't seem to get any pertinent details out.

"The mark-"

Voldemort and his followers always left their dark mark, their insignia, in the sky over houses after their attacks. The voice Albus used to question the auror was quite unlike his own. "Where?"

Alastor couldn't seem to bring himself to look at Dumbledore. "Aberdeen"

In itself the word really designated nothing. Moody hadn't said the name of a person or a family, just a town. Just one of many towns in Scotland. In that town there were hundreds, no, thousands of homes. It really didn't have to be _that_ house. But even without being told, Albus knew exactly which house it was.

All too late Albus realized the cause of his overwhelming sense of foreboding, the incredibly obvious thing that was to happen the same day that the students were to go home. The teachers go home as well.

Suddenly Albus didn't mind Alastor's unwillingness to give details. He had no more desire to hear the words than the auror had desire to say them. He already _knew_. And yet, he had to know. "Is she-"

Alastor nodded, but didn't speak.

Albus could feel the despair welling up inside him. "Did they-did she suffer?"

The well seasoned auror had to make an effort to clear his throat several times before he could get any words out. "Aye. It-it's bad. Real bad." Alastor paused for a moment. "They didn't use the Killing curse."

Albus' eyes closed as he continued to listen to Alastor's strained words. His hands grasped his desk, needing something, anything to hold onto. Now that Moody had found his voice, he seemed to Albus to be rambling.

"I tried to avoid using the Floo Network, you know how insecure it is. Ted Tonks, one of the Ministry people, tried to go to the castle to notify you, but of course he couldn't find it because of the Fidelius Charm. The Longbottoms are on their way. No need for you to come out, but I knew you would want to know."

Ignoring Alastor's suggestion of a lack of need, Albus spoke in less than a whisper. "I'll be right there."

"Do you need directions? Have you ever been there before?"

The question seemed almost comical - 'Had he ever been there before?' Of course Alastor had no way of knowing, just a few days ago Albus had lied to him, disavowing any intimate relationship with Minerva.

Years before, when Armando Dippet had still been alive and Headmaster, before this business with Voldemort had started, in a time when it wasn't necessary for him to be contacted by Floo in the middle of the night twice, three times a week by Ministry and Order people, he had spent many a night there. Holidays, breaks, bits of the summer, even one whole glorious summer when neither the Wizengamot or the International Confederation of Wizards had deemed it necessary to meet. It was a house, like its owner, that he knew well. _Had_ known well.

To Moody, all he could say was, "Yes, I've been there before."

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When Albus arrived the first thing he noticed was Frank Longbottom being ill in amongst one of Minerva's flowerbeds. The Ministry auror had trampled upon some of the overgrowth in his haste to move away from the door.

As he thought of how angry Minerva would be when she saw, it was agony to realize he would never again get to hear her soft Scottish brogue thicken in anger or desire. He needed to see her. As he moved to the door, Alastor intercepted him.

"Albus, you can't go in. It isn't secure yet."

With a glimmer of hope revived, Albus questioned the other man. "What do you mean it isn't secure? No one has been in yet? How do you know she is in there?"

Alastor was unmercifully quick to extinguish any hope. "I was inside, I saw her. Some of the hit wizards are still going through the house, checking for any surprises that might have been left. We can't move the bo-" Moody faltered for a moment. "-Touch anything until they finish."

Moody ran a hand along the stubble that had managed to grow in the past few days. "If only I had waited. If only I made sure she got home safely. If only-"

If only, if only, if only. So many 'if only's' ran through his own mind. A thought managed to pierce through the shroud of his grief. "Pomana, Rolanda, Filius, my other professors-"

Alastor seemed to regain some of his composure with the slight change of topic. "They are all being accounted for. It looks like McGonagall was the only one targeted."

While he was relieved to learn his other professors were safe, it was all his fears coming true. Only Minerva had been targeted. It was because of him. He wondered how Voldemort had come to know about his relationship with Minerva. They had always been so very careful; in what way had they slipped, allowing the knowledge to get back to him?

Alastor intruded upon his thoughts. "Albus, we need to know what McGonagall knew. There were shattered potion vials inside, probably Veritaserum. We have to assume that You-Know-Who knows anything she knew."

Alastor's attempt to impersonalize Minerva, to distance himself from her, did not escape Albus' notice. It was an old auror habit, a coping mechanism that had been adapted by many who had lived though the long, difficult years of Grindelwald.

Albus closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to regain control of his emotions. "Everything. She knew everything. I kept no secrets from her."

Though Alastor was here with assurances of the safety of his staff, Albus realized there had been or shortly would be another casualty, Severus Snape. Despite knowing some choices could never be remade, Severus had willingly taken steps to if not make amends at least, try to thwart some of the worst of what was yet to come. If only he hadn't told her this night. If only, if only, if only.

Alastor gave a snort, not of amusement, but of weary defeat. "Well, I would say that would qualify as 'a devastating blow' to the Order and the Ministry."

"She was my secret keeper."

He didn't mean it literally, just that Minerva was the one person he had always known would never betray him. Alastor's confused look made him realize the other possible interpretation of his words, which was also true.

Since it had become clear earlier in the year that Voldemort had some specific grudge against him, Albus had transferred most of the castle's wards and protections, like the Fidelius Charm, to Minerva. The protective charms remained in place only so long as the one upholding them lived. His intent had been that, if Voldemort had succeeded in an attempt on his life, the castle would remain secure.

Ted Tonks approached to question Alastor. "Moody, I can't figure out who else to notify. Parents are deceased. She isn't…wasn't married and she had no children. Does anyone know if she had siblings?"

Alice was nearby and shook her head while wiping at her eyes. "No, she was an only child."

Alice gave a slight smile as the tears she had wiped away were replaced. "I told her Frank and I were thinking about having a baby when this was all over. Minerva told me to make sure to have more than one. She never had any brothers or sisters, and she said she always felt like she missed half the experience of being a child because of it."

Frank put a comforting arm around his wife as her tears increased with her next words. "She said not to wait. 'Don't let fear of things that may or may not happen keep you from going after the things you really want in life.' At least, if something happened to one of us, the other would still have a part of the other to go on loving."

Albus knew Alice had no way of knowing how cutting her repetition of Minerva's words were. Had he only yielded to the want so long in Minerva's eyes, he would have a child to cling to now in his mourning, instead of nothing.

Ted's response was no more comforting. "Well, at least that's something to be grateful for, McGonagall having no family. I hate everything about this job, but that has to be the worst part - notifying the families afterwards."

Albus tried to keep at bay the realization that had he not worked so desperately to push Minerva away these past few months, he wouldn't have to be here at all. Were it not for that, she would have once again spent the summer at the castle. Right now, at this very moment, he could have been asleep laying with her in his arms, blissfully unaware of all this.

He had to see her again. Just once more. Alastor again tried to stop him.

"Albus, it's not the way you'd want to remember her. It's horrible in there."

Albus just pushed past him and into the house.

It was easy to tell that the Death Eaters who had been here had been kept waiting three days. They had thoroughly vandalized and violated the house to pass the time. The colored glass shards he walked upon were the only remnants of an assortment of hand-blown glass figurines collected over a lifetime. Minerva's many sets of chess pieces looked to have been used for bludger practice. Furniture, paintings, curtains, all slashed. They had even gone so far as to scrape off the wall paper in some spots. As he followed the trail to the sitting room he grew more outraged with every step.

None of it prepared him for actually seeing her. If only, if only, if only the furniture had been the only thing slashed.

There were a series of more superficial wounds, but the dagger still lodged in her throat signified the last and most significant. There had been so much blood that it had dried and covered her like a coat of paint. It was only after seeing in the corner fabric scraps the color of the robes he had seen her in last that he realized she had been stripped from the waist up. So much blood and yet bleeding to death he almost would have expected to see more blood.

Even with her eyes still open, seeming to accuse him he couldn't think of her as looking horrible. She still looked like his Minerva and his Minerva could never look anything but beautiful to him. Despair took hold of him as the reality of it all set in. To never again be able to hold her, to make love to her, to see the smile she reserved just for him, to never again hear her wonderfully throaty laughter, to see her lips pursed in frustration at some student's stunt or rule breaking, to never again wake up beside her, or to brush his hands against hers and experience the spark of electricity, the sensation created by the magics of two powerful mages meeting.

The irony of it all was too much for him. To have pushed her away for her own protection, only to have sent her to her death. To think that her last few minutes, perhaps even hours, had been spent in terror, alone.

Desiring to be closer to her, he stepped over the broken potion vials littering the floor around her. Just once more he needed to touch her, one last time to press his lips against hers.

Reaching out and tenderly stroking her face, it was almost as if he could still feel that spark. He remembered it so well, it was like it was still there. It seemed almost real. If only wishing could make it so.

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A/N Thanks to all who reviewed the earlier part. A special /bonk/ for those who already read this part when it was posted last time but managed to forget the (hopefully) extremely obvious, but easily overlookable other thing that happens the day that the students go home. Namely, that the professors also go home.


	3. Chapter Three

A/N Thank you Maria for taking the time to beta this.

First time this chapter has been posted to FFN, but it may still look familiar. It has been in email circulations since early February.

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Desiring to be closer to her, Albus stepped over the broken potion vials littering the floor around her. Just once more he needed to touch her, one last time to press his lips against hers.

Reaching out and tenderly stroking her face, it was almost as if he could still feel that spark. He remembered it so well, it was like it was still there. It seemed almost real. If only wishing could make it so.

No, he _really_ could still feel that spark of energy touching her. He wasn't simply remembering it.

Something wasn't right. Tonks hadn't been able to find the castle, but if Minerva was dead than the Fidelius Charm should have ended.

Minerva wasn't breathing; well at least she didn't seem to be. Albus removed his hand from her face. Taking out his wand he checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

Just wishful thinking. Just the foolish hopes of a desperate old man.

He was lowering his wand, admitting defeat when it happened - a single tiny, almost imperceptible flash of light showed from his wand.

"Alastor! We need to get Minerva to St. Mungo's now!"

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Albus resisted all attempts to persuade him from Minerva's side during the journey to St. Mungo's and while the healers did their work. The healers tried to send him out of the room. Alastor asked him to come assist in gauging the scope of the information Minerva had surely given and prevent the damage it could do. Albus granted no concessions. He knew it could be a long time before she awoke, but he wanted…he needed to be there when she did.

It was torment sitting there, watching her slumber. Her breaths were so few and so far between even with the potions the healers had administered. It had taken a while, but the healers at St. Mungo's, quite experienced in all manner of odd injuries, had figured out the unusual combination of things wrong with her.

While most of the earlier wounds had been no doubt inflicted to cause maximum pain, they had been superficial, causing minimal blood loss. It was only the last wound that had been serious, the blade that pierced her throat. Normally with such a wound it would be expected for her to have bled to death in two, three minutes at most. Mysteriously, the flow of blood from Minerva's wound had stopped before that could happen.

The healer in charge had informed him it was no miracle, but rather a very difficult to brew potion that must have been administered almost immediately that had saved Minerva's life.

The Draught of the Living Death mimics death in many ways, including the near cessation of the heart. With her heart not stopped, but beating only once every few minutes, there had not been enough blood pressure for her to bleed out completely. There had of course also been no appreciable pulse to take.

The healer had referred to the one who thought to put the potion to such a use 'ingenious'. Albus didn't care what anyone else chose to call Severus Snape, to him Albus would always owe a debt worth far more than if it had been merely his own life saved.

He knew Severus was surely the quick reacting individual who had thought to give Minerva the powerful sleeping draught. Certainly he was one of the few potion makers skilled enough to manufacture such a mixture, and as a recent initiate into Voldemort's inner circle, he was likely to have been there.

In spite of the words he had spoken to her only hours ago, Albus longed to gather her in his arms, to caress her face, to kiss her lips, to grasp her hand in his. Despite the other people in the room, only the thought that it might cause her pain to do so held him back.

Instead, he hovered beside her ear, not touching her, but whispering words to comfort and reassure her just in case she could hear him.

It was dark again before Minerva awoke. Physically, the healers had assured him it would take time, but she could recover completely from her wounds. But those were just words and words were so easily spoken. Even then, as to the possibility of brain damage, they were not so willing to commit.

As soon as she awoke, he knew everything was going to be all right. There was more than just a spark of recognition in her eyes as she looked at him.

Against the healers' orders, she struggled to speak.

"I-"

"Shh…it's all right, Minerva. It's over now. You're safe."

It was clear each word was agony to get out, but she persisted.

"-told-"

The list of things she could have told Voldemort, the plans, the secrets she may have given away were innumerable. But he just didn't care. She was alive and that was all that mattered.

"Minerva, it doesn't matter. Just rest now."

Still, she struggled to go on despite the pain.

"-you-"

This he didn't understand, but he knew it had to be desperately important. What was she referring to? They had had discussions about so many things. Voldemort? The Order? The Ministry? Snape? A traitor in their own midst? Something else? Which one could she possibly be referring to now?

"-so!"

He couldn't help but let out a small bark of laughter to go along with his tears. Yes, Minerva was certainly going to be all right. Wanting simply to be near her, to touch her, he gently traced a strand of hair on her pillow, careful to not put pressure on even that small part of her.

The healers soon had her in a restful, painless sleep. Having himself been reassured and comforted, he whispered into her ear a few more words of devotion. With a promise to return shortly, he took his leave.

Exactly what had gone on that night, he had no idea. But given that Minerva was still alive, he was more than confident that Severus Snape had also managed to survive.

If he had survived and he were able to, Severus should be waiting now in the dark forests around Hogwarts. Determined to find out exactly what had gone on and the extent of the damage to the Order, Albus made his way back to the school.

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A/N Reviews are always welcome!

In case you missed it, the significance of Minerva's 'I told you so!' was her chapter one statement that You-Know-Who wasn't just targeting Dumbledore, but anyone who stands against him.

The next chapter jumps right into Severus' rendition of the night's events.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Posting this small bit first as a trial run to figure out the uploading & format changes ffn has instituted over the last year. Will post more of this story and some other things later in the week.

A few points of warning before we begin….This chapter has _not_ been beta checked. If that is a problem for you kindly skip it. This is an older story, written after Y5, and is _not_ Y6 compliant. Again, if that is a problem for you, skip it.

As mentioned last chapter, this chapter will jump right into the missing night's events from the perspective of Snape. A final warning, my Snape has never been, nor ever will be, Uncle Fluffy.

Severus knew natural selection to be a necessary part of the order of life. Natural selection ensured that only the fittest, most capable survived. Natural selection purged the weak and the useless. Natural selection eliminated those too incredibly stupid to live.

Watching a bored Goyle carve his initials and the date into the wall, Severus Snape concluded that the kind of artificial selection exercised by the Dark Lord was not going to serve the Wizarding World well.

What they were doing here was most definitely not natural selection. In a fair and honorable fight, Severus knew no one, or even two, Death Eaters would have even the remotest chance of successfully overpowering Minerva McGonagall. But then, that was why eight of them were here - Death Eaters didn't fight fairly or honorable.

Severus had tried to give a warning to Albus Dumbledore, but he himself hadn't been given any real details in advance. It wasn't until after their arrival here, when he noticed the tapestry with the McGonagall family coat of arms on it that he learned the actual target.

That had been the first day, but the tapestry hadn't lasted through the first night. It had been slashed into shreds like most of the upholstery. The second day in some extremely bizarre form of foreplay, Rodolphus Lestrange had taken to throwing McGonagall's seemingly limitless supply of kitschy glass knickknacks into the air so that Bellatrix Black could practice the Cruciatus curse on a moving target. Having later watched Black lead Lestrange up the staircase leading to the bedroom, Severus had no doubt that that part of the house had been equally laid to waste. Even if it wasn't, Severus doubted that McGonagall would ever want to sleep in that bed again after what those two undoubtedly did in it - not that she would be given a chance. The wanton destruction was to be expected; Death Eaters didn't like to be kept waiting. What you had to understand was that they were very busy people, most of them lived double lives.

It was almost the fourth day and still no sign of her. By now he would have expected to see a flair of the Dark Lord's temper, outrage that his plan had been foiled. Instead, the Dark Lord sat quite composed on a chair, the sole piece of furniture not yet consumed by the frustrated carnage of his followers. When Snape had, on the third day, inquired how long they were going to wait since it seemed clear that McGonagall had changed her summer plans, the Dark Lord had smiled at him, eerily serene.

As if again feeling the weight of Severus' eyes upon him, the Dark Lord turned. Immediately Severus averted his eyes, but already it was too late.

"Crucio!"

Severus had no small sense of satisfaction watching the Dark Lord's fury fall on Goyle instead. "You carved your initials in the wall? How thick can you get?"

One of the other Death Eaters, McClaggan, moved to pick up the knife Goyle had dropped. He used it to gouge out the area Goyle had carved.

People were becoming sloppy; they weren't thinking through what they were doing. Severus wondered just how careless he could get someone to be. "Make yourself useful, Black. Open a window. Three days here with you, the stench is overwhelming."

Regulus Black, recently recruited by his cousin, Bellatrix, did as he was told.

The house's own wards had been horribly neglected for some time. They had been absurdly easy to strip and replace with wards of the Dark Lord's design. McGonagall would be able to apparate into the house, but she would not be able to disparate back out. Severus could only hope that should McGonagall ever actually arrive, she would have time and sense enough to transform into her animagus form and escape through the open window. It seemed plausible; the three day long game of hurry up and wait had done little to hone anyone's reflexes.

Not for the first time, Snape wondered why it had to be McGonagall of all people. Oh, he understood well enough from a strategic point, but he couldn't help but think of how almost satisfying it would be if it were one of the others. If nothing else, he would have liked to have seen Sprout try to fit through the small opening of the window. At the right angle, Flitwick might have stood a chance, but while he would have much preferred it to be that overly excitable little twit rather than McGonagall, a chance to torture Filch would have been almost karmic. Still, his wish of wishes would have been for it to be Sirius Black.

Severus wondered what Sirius would think when he discovered that his darling little brother had joined the ranks of the Death Eaters.

Any hopes of his that McGonagall's arrival would catch the other Death Eaters unawares were dashed as the Dark Lord removed a mirror from one of his robe pockets. The mirror was glowing. The Dark Lord made a point of angling the mirror so that only he could see it before tapping it with his wand.

Severus tried to recognize the voice that came from it. "Soon!"

However, one word simply was not enough for recognition. It seemed Lord Voldemort was not the only one with a spy in his inner circle.

The Dark Lord seemed quite pleased as he called the others to prepare. "Get ready! Wands out!"

All in all, it was incredibly unsporting. It was a wonder McGonagall didn't get splinched, she didn't even seem to be fully in the room before the first stun hit her.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Not beta checked. If that's a problem, turn back now!

The Dark Lord ordered Severus and Black to each take hold of one of McGonagall's arms to keep her pinned to the floor. An 'Immobulus' or a 'Petrificus Totalus' would have served the same purpose, but both were terribly impersonal. Neither instilled the same kind of terror that the more personal touch could. From his chair, the Dark Lord himself cast the spell to prevent her from transfiguring into her animagus form. Satisfied, he gave McClaggan the nod to revive her.

It would be a lie to say there was no fear in her eyes as she opened them, but there was still in them that same dignity and steely resolve that Severus had known for seven years. She stayed silent despite her fear. There was none of the pleading or the puling noises that people often made as soon as they saw who had come to call. It interested Severus, the different ways that many of the supposedly upstanding citizens of the Wizarding World reacted. So far, McGonagall compared most favorably to the Death Eater's previous stop, the Bones. When they had come for him, even before the Dark Lord had given Bellatrix his youngest child to 'play' with, Edgar Bones had begun ratting out everyone he had ever known.

Like always, Bellatrix was a little too eager. She started casting the Cruciatus curse before the Dark Lord, or anyone else, could even ask a question of McGonagall.

The Dark Lord allowed Bellatrix a few castings before amusedly calling her off. "Now, now! You can have your fun, but let's not totally destroy her mind until _after_ we have what we came for."

McClaggan still held the knife he had taken from Goyle as he moved towards McGonagall.

Any of the Death Eaters could have quickly gotten the information they wanted by using the 'Imperius' curse. Had the Dark Lord requested Snape to get it, any one of the several vials of Veritaserum that he had in his potion case could have immediately had her talking. Or, the Dark Lord himself could have gotten the information just by looking her in the eye. Instead, he sat complacently in his chair, not even bothering to look in her direction. No one, excepting Severus and of course McGonagall, seemed to be in a hurry to get things over with. The Death Eaters had been kept waiting a long time; now it was their turn to take their time.

McClaggan straddled McGonagall. Rather than simply tear her robes open, he dragged the knife in a line down her front. McGonagall gasped in pain as he pressed down too hard and the blade sliced into her skin. It was done, no doubt, deliberately.

Still seated and sounding only mildly concerned, the Dark Lord lightly admonished McClaggan. "Tisk, tisk."

Severus would have liked to do something to help her, really, he would, but at this point, there was nothing he could do. Any effort on his part would serve only to get him killed as well.

Customarily on their raids when he was restraining someone, Severus kept both hands on the victim's wrist. It took away more of the person's range of motion, made their struggles more feeble. This time, one of his hands found its way slightly higher, his fingers laced between hers.

At his pathetic gesture of comfort, McGonagall looked up at him. Reading the thoughts going on in her head, Severus had to struggle to keep himself from laughing. He was done for. Despite his mask, she recognized him. More than that, she _knew _of him. Didn't Dumbledore know that the identity of a spy was supposed to be kept secret?

As McClaggan continued his tormenting of her with Goyle's blade, Lestrange began to complain. "Do get on with it. Your idea of foreplay takes too long."

Still straddling her, McClaggan held the knife haphazardly in one hand as the other fumbled with his robe fastenings.

Feeling her hand clench and her nails dig into his flesh, Severus again looked down. Her face was full of revulsion and contempt as she watched McClaggan, but shifting her gaze to the blade in his hand, her expression changed. When she unclenched her hand and tilted back her head to be looking into his eyes, Severus took it as an invitation to again look into her thoughts.

She wanted to avoid betraying any of the Order's information…she desired to avoid betraying Dumbledore and revealing Snape's other pastime…she also could very, very much do without what McClaggan intended.

Severus saw in her mind what she sought to do.

He stole a glance at Regulus to gage whether her hope was realistic. Regulus, Severus knew, was very new at all this. Sirius's younger brother hadn't yet had the practice needed to hone his skills in the fine art of bondage. Knowing the frenzied strength of panic, Severus always employed two hands in restraint, but Regulus seemed to think one was adequate. Regulus hadn't the practical experience to know that hands, and particularly palms, would become slippery from the abundant sweat fear produced, and wouldn't provide adequate traction. No, Regulus would be the easy part.

Severus observed the others in the room to see how closely, or not, they were paying attention. McClaggan was currently occupied with the contents of his own trousers. Lestrange and Black were…_else wise_ engaged and most of the others were idly chatting. This sort of thing was old hat for most of them. The Dark Lord was toying with his wand, he didn't even seem to be looking in their direction. Though, with him one could never be sure.

McGonagall was going to die – the matter was not open to debate. But if he allowed things to play out to their natural conclusion, she would eventually be made to talk and he too would die. If he tried to aid her and any of the others caught on to what he was attempting to do, he would die. Even if no one suspected it was deliberate, there was a very high likelihood that the Dark Lord would kill him just for being incompetent.

Severus weighed the risks, but there was no question – the risk to him was worth it.

Looking back to her, Severus inclined his head slightly in a show of his admiration before lessening his hold on her as much as was possible without making it obvious.

Given the ineffectiveness of Regulus's hold, McGonagall was able to jerk into an almost sitting position. Along the way she succeeded in meeting up with the blade still in McClaggan's hand.

Though the Dark Lord hadn't even been looking in her direction, the horrid wheeze she produced as she attempted to breath and instead sucked in blood quickly drew his attention. Gone was his appearance of serenity. "You imbeciles! You cannot be counted on to do the simplest things!"

McClaggan moved to retrieve the blade, but the Dark Lord knew better. "Leave it! Snape, get your bag and do something!"

Severus went quickly to his bag, but shook his head. Truthfully, had he been so inclined, he had numerous healing potions potent enough to save her. But he didn't tell that to the others. "Only phoenix tears could save her now and the only phoenix I know of is in the possession of that cursed mud-blood lover!"

Trying to mask his own nervousness, he snidely added, "Would one of you care to get him on the Floo to borrow a cup?"

Lacking anything else to do, Severus turned to watch her dying. Even as she choked on the blood filling her mouth and lungs, McGonagall kept her eyes closed to ensure she revealed nothing. She preferred to die rather than give him up - though in all honesty, she would have died even after giving him up. Still…looking through his potion bag, Snape thought if there was a way….

"My Lord, it may not yet be too late. None of my potions are strong enough to keep her alive, but Veritaserum could loosen her tongue while there is still time."

It was a complete and utter lie. Given the location of her wound, Snape doubted she could even speak, but the Dark Lord, eager to not have the past few days be an entire loss, nodded.

Her eyes had reopened at his words. Severus saw that thankfully, at least for the moment, all that could be read in them was panic and betrayal. He saw her lock her jaw closed as he rummaged in his bag.

"Hold her mouth open."

Regulus was still in his earlier spot kneeled beside her, watching in horror. He made no movement to help.

Moving back towards McGonagall, Severus snapped at him, "Black!"

Startled, Regulus moved to his feet. Snape deliberately collided with him and released the vial to shatter on the floor. "Damn it, Black! Watch what you are doing!"

Taking his former position beside McGonagall, he directed Regulus. "Quick, get me another vial. One with a green top!"

Severus's reasoning for not labeling by name any of the potions he brewed was simple enough; if the contents were discernable to anyone, anyone could administer them. Making oneselfto any degreeless valuable to the Dark Lord was never in one's long term interests. But on this occasion it provided another opportunity.

Taking the vial of 'Veritaserum' from Black, Severus pressed his thumb and forefinger into either side of McGonagall's cheek, trying to pry her mouth open. Trying to escape his grasp, she shook her head violently. When that failed to work, she reached for the dagger handle with her still freed hands. Severus repressed a sigh; life would be so much easier if people just did what he wanted.

"A little help here!"

Black and McClaggan, the two closest, were very quick to offer no help. Severus gave up struggling with her and struck her closed fist across the face to stop her. The blow dazed her enough to give him the opportunity to empty the contents of the vial down her throat.

The effects of the potion were immediate.

Falling back into a sitting position, Severus threw the potion vial against the wall, shattering it. While he hoped it would simply appear to the others an act of anger, it was done in a desire to prevent anyone from examining too closely the vial and any residual contents.

The minute of silence that ensued had nothing to do with respect for the 'dead'. The Dark Lord was too outraged for words and no one else dared speak for fear of drawing his attention.

Soon enough the Dark Lord collected himself enough for his rage to find a word. 'Crucios' began to fall on those assembled.

"Useless! All of you utterly useless!"

When the Dark Lord finally tired of disciplining them and stormed out, most of the Death Eaters were only a bit worse for the wear. They had become accustomed to the Dark Lord's brand of motivation. Regulus Black, not so experienced, faired not as well. Severus waited until the others had departed before lending him a 'helping' hand to get to his feet.

Already Severus's sense of self preservation was hard at work.

Walking out together, he offered Regulus some 'friendly' advice. "This will all blow over soon enough. If you would like to avoid another taste of that, you would do well to lay low for a few days until it does."

Still showing the ill effects of the spell, Regulus barely managed a nod.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Yeah I know it's been a while. Hasn't been beta checked so be kind.

"""

Albus shook his head, still unsure of something. "How did Voldemort know we were lovers?"

Severus was a man very much in control of his emotions. A blink was the only indication he gave of his shock and … was it something akin to admiration that Albus detected in his eyes?

"I don't know that he did. He certainly never mentioned it."

Albus didn't understand. "But then why Minerva?"

Severus regarded him intently, no doubt astounded at his lack of insight. "You trusted her enough to make her your second-in-command at the school. Wouldn't it seem only natural to assume that you would also confide in her about other things?"

Like that the professors depart Hogwarts the same day as the students, that was an entirely obvious idea that had never occurred to Albus. In so many ways lately it seemed that they – no, he was merely playing catch up. Voldemort never left him time enough to think ahead or contemplate the larger picture.

"I owe a great debt to you, Severus. You have put yourself at immense risk on Minerva's behalf. I offer you whatever protections I can. We will go to the Ministry. I shall vouch for you there and then we can get you into hiding."

Severus shook his head. "Hiding will do no good. I am marked. If the Dark Lord wishes to find me, he will. I must return to him."

"Severus, once Voldemort learns that Minerva is alive he will realize that you have betrayed him. To return is folly!"

Again Severus shook his head. "The Dark Lord will no doubt suspect me. To attempt to run would be tantamount to a confession. I have…another plan. Besides, you will have trouble enough protecting McGonagall. The Dark Lord has never been one to leave survivors. He will not take well her being alive. He will do all that he can to find her to rectify the situation."

Knowing the young man's words to be true, Albus allowed him to leave. Severus had managed to keep himself alive this long, Albus would have to trust him to continue doing so. Besides, Severus was correct, Albus would have his hands full trying to keep Minerva safe. And as he departed to resume his vigil at her bedside, he was all too aware that that was a task at which he simply could not fail again.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Just a reminder this story was started shortly after OOTP was published and is _not_ HBP compliant.

In need of a beta reader if anyone is interested.

""""

After speaking the password, Albus gestured for Sirius to lead the way up the staircase. The young man seemed to lack his customary cockiness today.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, Professor Dumbledore."

Though he was no closer to knowing with whom, given that he was now entirely certain that Voldemort had succeeded in infiltrating the Order, Albus was highly attentive to even the slightest thing out of the ordinary. Immediately upon entering his office, he realized that things were not as he had left them.

"I wanted to come and talk to you in person because..."

The upstairs door, the one leading to his private chambers, was open. Albus had closed it when last he left – of that he was certain.

"I know this can't look good for me."

Had someone been there? Sirius knew the password to his office now – Albus would change it as soon as he left – but prior to that, the only person with the knowledge was Hagrid. As he was currently engaged on a most important task on Albus's behalf, it couldn't have been him. House elves had their own way of coming and going without the need for any passwords so in theory it could have been one of them. However, the hallmark of a good elf was that, aside from the cleanliness, you could never tell that one had been present, so that seemed unlikely. Had someone without the password tried to force their way past the gargoyles there would have been evidence of it downstairs - namely, remnants of whoever was so foolish as to attempt it. No, as unlikely as the idea of it being an elf was, it was the only reasonable explanation.

"Professor?"

Albus returned his focus to Sirius. No, he would have to agree, having it become known that your younger brother was a Death Eater didn't tend to look good for anyone, particularly not for someone already suspected of betrayal. However, what he actually said was something slightly different.

"You, Sirius, are not your brother. You cannot be held responsible for his decisions or actions, however misguided they might have been. You have always held your own views, separate from those of your family. I believe everyone in the Order realizes that and respects you for it."

Sirius nodded. "Thank you. You don't know what it means to me to hear you say that."

Examining the rest of the room, Albus found the only article missing to be Fawkes. But his phoenix friend was free to come and go as he pleased so his absence was hardly suspect.

"It looks like Professor McGonagall is going to pull through?"

The mention of Minerva managed to get his full attention back on Sirius. Albus kept his own expression impassive while regarding Sirius's for any change. "Yes, the healers have said, barring complications, there is no reason she shouldn't make a full recovery."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Was he? Albus wondered.

Sirius ran his hands over his face. "Regulus was such a prat, getting involved in all this, but its something to know that once he got in deep enough to really see what You-Know-Who was about, he realized his mistake and tried to do what was right. I just wish it hadn't cost him his life."

As unmagnanimous as Albus currently felt towards the late Regulus Black, he held his tongue. If Sirius was the spy, he could very well be here on Voldemort's behalf, seeking confirmation that the right man had been eliminated. If Sirius were not the spy, telling him the truth would serve only to further tarnish his brother's memory. He would let Sirius have his false sense of solace.

"We all make choices, Sirius, about what it is we can and cannot live with."

There passed between them a pause before Sirius again spoke. "I'd like to see her. Talk to her about that night. Find out if Regulus…"

Sirius was still trying to find words, but Albus mercilessly cut him off. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. She isn't up to having visitors."

"But someone is with her now, aren't they? You didn't leave her alone at St. Mungo's."

"Someone is with her." Albus chose not to elaborate to Sirius, but the two times he had left her, for his clandestine meeting with Severus a few days ago and today to meet with Sirius, Hagrid had remained in his place. Albus trusted no one else to be near her.

"I know that you have started making plans for Professor McGonagall to leave St. Mungo's. If you haven't decided on the three people yet for moving her, I'd like to volunteer."

Albus _had_ in fact already made plans to relocate Minerva as soon as it was medically feasible. There were aurors stationed outside her room and elsewhere on her ward, but St. Mungo's was a public hospital. All the people coming and going left her far too exposed. Possibly as early as tomorrow he would take her to stay with Poppy at an unassuming little cottage he had found in a predominantly muggle village.

Albus's talk with Severus the other night had made him more aware of the need to try to predict what other people would assume he would do. It was only natural to expect he would be relocating her as soon as possible…but why he wondered would Sirius assume three people?

"The three?"

"I was there when Hagrid stopped by to borrow James's invisibility cloak last night. He already had both of Moody's with him. We just assumed he was collecting them for you."

Albus hadn't asked Hagrid to gather any cloaks for him. He had been planning to use Fawkes to transport Minerva. Three invisibility cloaks might be sufficient to conceal his oversize friend, but just what Hagrid was up to was anyone's guess.

"My brother gave his life protecting her. I'd like to make sure he didn't die in vain."

Though truthfully Albus had no such intentions he nodded. "I'll let you know when the time comes."

Having run out of things to say, Sirius departed.

Albus let out a sigh both wary and weary. He wanted to believe that Sirius was sincere and uninvolved, but there was no denying that one of the people in the room that night had betrayed him. He didn't want to believe that the faith that he had put in the boy all these years had been misplaced…but given who was at stake, Albus just wasn't willing to take any more chances.

Eager to get back to Minerva's bedside, Albus redid the password to his office. He was about to himself depart when the head of a very distraught Alastor Moody appeared in the fireplace.

"Tell me it was you, Albus! Tell me you were the one to do it!"

Albus had no idea what the other man was ranting about, but memories of the last time Alastor's head had appeared in his fire chilled him. "Do what?"

His heart positively froze at the auror's next words.

"For Merlin's sake, Albus, tell me you were the one that took Minerva from St. Mungo's."


	8. Chapter 8

It was happening again. His world was coming crashing down.

"Tell me it was you!" Alastor repeated.

Why Alastor would need to ask – why his expression was not answer enough, was beyond Albus. Even to his own ears, Albus's voice sounded hollow. "How long ago?"

"I went to look in on her when I came on watch. Hagrid set me out on my arse, but I caught enough of a glimpse of her to know she was there. One of the healers just sounded the alarm. Between the two…couldn't have been even an hour."

"Hagrid?"

Alastor shook his head. "No sign of him. We've sealed all the exits and started searching."

No, but Albus knew that Hagrid would have to be dead for anyone to have gotten to her. Albus cursed his own folly; the meeting with Sirius had been nothing more than a ruse to get him out of the way. "I think I know where to start looking. I'll be there when I can."

Alastor's head disappeared from the fire.

It had been less than an hour. If Voldemort and his followers had gone through the trouble of taking her from the hospital, than there was still hope of finding her alive. If Voldemort had just wanted her dead, why bother to remove her from the hospital? Why expose himself or his followers to the increased chance of capture when they could have just killed her in the room?

No, they wanted something from her. Which wasn't to say that they would need to keep her alive long to get whatever information they wanted. She was hardly in a state to offer resistance.

He tried not to dwell on another possibility - the idea that Voldemort may have gone through the added effort of removing her from the hospital because allowing her a quick death was not what he had in mind.

But whatever little time it gave him to find her, it was still time.

He had to track down Sirius before he got too far. Albus was to the door before his mind registered a new sound in the room. Phoenix song in a calming, restorative melody was coming from the door to his private chambers. Turned with his hand on the knob, in the same position that Minerva had been in just a few days before, another possibility occurred to him.

Fervently hoping, he hesitantly climbed the staircase.

Fawkes was perched atop the headboard serenading a slumbering figure.

Albus approached the bed tentatively, almost as if he feared she would disappear. He took a seat beside her on the bed. Needing to be sure that she was really there, he reached a hand to lightly touch her face.

"You can't keep frightening me like this. I'm an old man. I'm not sure how much more of it I can take."

Her hand made its way to be with his before she managed to open her eyes.

"Minerva, you shouldn't be here."

She didn't look good, but she looked much better than she had that first day. Her voice, however, was still quite hoarse. "Where else would you have me go? My house?"

"Minerva!" His exclamation got her to soften her tone.

"Besides, I needed to come get something from you."

He would gladly give her anything that he had or that was in his power to get – save one thing. "And what might that be?"

"A kiss."

As much as he desired to fall into old habits…"You know I can't do that, Minerva."

"It's really quite easy. Come a little closer and I'll show you."

He momentarily sidestepped the request with a question. "How did you get here?"

"Hagrid." Her response was punctuated with a yawn.

Incredulous, he asked. "You told Hagrid about us?"

"No," She started to shake her head, but stopped with a cringe. "I told him to bring me to Hogwarts."

Hagrid had Albus's full faith in so many ways, but in being able to keep a secret wasn't one of them. Still, Albus was just relieved to know she was safe. "And you don't think he found it at all odd to be told to deposit you in my bed?"

"I warned him that I would have to obliviate him afterwards. He said he didn't mind." She added as an afterthought, "But I can't remember if I did or not though – you might want to check on that."

She did seem to be fading in and out.

"Minerva, you cannotstay here."

"You can't fool me, Albus. I know what this is really about. I've grown too old for you." Her preposterous claims were interrupted by yet another yawn. The fierce battle she was waging to keep her eyes open didn't look to be one she could win for long. "You want to move on to someone younger like that hooch, Hooch!"

Refusing to take the bait, Albus insisted. "You need medical care that I can't give you."

"All the healers have been doing is giving me potions, but I suppose you are right." The bite in her tone wasn't quite up to its customary magnificence, but it was getting there. "Pity neither of us is a world renowned alchemist."

"I've already made arrangements. You are going to stay with Poppy until you are well again."

"Yes, I'm sure that wouldn't be the first place anyone would look."

The thought had actually already occurred to him; everyone would be expecting him to send her to Poppy. Hogwarts was the most secure location to be had…and with the added protection of the gargoyles, not to mention Fawkes, his bedroom probably was the safest place in the castle…

A hazy Minerva interrupted his thoughts. "I'm still waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Weren't you supposed to be kissing me already?"

As much as he wanted to be doing just that, he spoke firmly. "Minerva, you _cannot_ stay here."

"Fine. Be a dear and call the Knight Bus. I'll just ride around town until school starts again."

Albus sighed. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

Had the events of the past few days really changed anything? Their continued involvement would in no way put her in any _less_ danger?

Minerva seemed to have missed the exasperation in his question. "Well, you could kiss me."

Alternatively, he supposed at the moment there really wasn't a way to put Minerva in more danger than she already was. Severus was right; for the time being curing himself of the embarrassment of her being alive would be Voldemort's highest priority.

Capitulating entirely, Albus leaned down to kiss her. "As you wish."

Her lips immediately parted for him. When his tongue slipped inside her mouth, she tried to keep up with his. Sluggish wasn't a word he would customarily think to describe a kiss-particularly not hers, but her current responses weren't slow in a sensual way. From the looks of it, if he could get her to keep her eyes closed for but a minute, she would be asleep. Towards that aim, he moved slightly upward and enticed her to close her eyes by placing a gentle kiss on first one lid and then the other. By the time he finished, she was asleep.

Brushing aside a stray strand of her hair, he knew he should go. There were so many things he needed to attend to if she were to stay here. There were potions or at least potion ingredients that he needed to procure. While she couldn't be told precisely why, Poppy would have to be informed that her services would no longer be required and it would be best to call off Alastor before the auror tore apart half of London in a fruitless search. Not to mention regardless of whether Minerva stayed or went, Hagrid was in need of obliviating.

But still afraid she would again disappear – not an entirely irrational fear given the last few days, he couldn't abide to take his eyes off of her. Moody and the others be damned; he would stay just a little longer.


	9. Chapter 9

Albus wanted to let Minerva sleep, but he knew how important it was to keep her on the meticulous schedule of blood replenishing potions the healers at St. Mungo's had provided. In later years there would be many advances in the potency and efficiency of that particular line of potions, but currently it was a very slow and delicate process.

She was sleeping so soundly that she didn't even stir as he slipped out of the bed. Wanting to allow her a few more minutes, he quietly showered and dressed. When he finally could delay no longer, he woke her the same way he had put her to sleep the day before. In her slumber, her lips were slightly parted. He pressed a slow, tender kiss first to her mouth, followed by one to each of her eyelids. As her eyes began to flutter open, he added another kiss to her lips.

"Good morning, my dear."

Her eyes fluttered back to a closed position, but one of her hands found its way to the back of his neck to try to pull him down towards her.

Restraining himself to just a few relatively brief kisses, he picked up one of the vials. "May I offer you a delectable potion?"

"Mmmm...not so much." Still she reopened her eyes and allowed him to help her sit up. She made a face as she drank the potion; taste was another property of the potions that needed to be improved upon. Maybe when this whole business with Voldemort was over he could go back to his real passion-present company excluded; alchemy.

"Would you care for some breakfast? A little tea or oatmeal?"

He could tell she was making an effort to be, or at least seem, more coherent and less asleep. "No, but a warm bath might be nice. Care to join me?"

He kissed her brow because her lips were simply too inviting. "I had a shower while you were sleeping."

"Oh." Minerva failed in her attempt to hide her disappointment.

"But don't let that stop you."

"No, that's all right. I was just planning to lure you in there to seduce you."

Albus smiled. "I hardly think that you have the energy to stand right now, never mind…" He allowed the sentence to trail off demurely.

"You know, it's not as if I need to stand to seduce you. Besides, I thought you were willing to try _anything_ once. Necrophilia not-"

Albus covered her mouth with his hand to silence her. "Please don't, Minerva. Don't even jest. When I thought…" It wasn't a desire to be demure that caused him to trail off this time.

Her playful mood dispelled, Minerva averted her eyes.

Trying to recover himself, Albus started again. "I have a few papers in my office that need going over. You should try to get some more rest."

She nodded.

"Call me, if you need anything." Tilting her chin up, he kissed her. The taste of those potions really did need to be improved upon. Still he kissed her all the more.

Laying her back down amongst the pillows, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll wake you for lunch. Any special requests?"

Her suggestive raised eyebrow elicited an amused sigh from him. "I _meant_ chicken broth, consommé, viscose, pudding…"

"_Oh_. No, not really."

With so many stops to glance back at her he might just as well have tried walking backwards, Albus departed the room. Reaching his desk, he shook his head at the thought; the woman barely had the energy to lift her head up, never mind stand, and all she could think about is –

Albus sighed at his own obtuseness. If she hadn't the strength to stand, how was it he expected her to manage a bath by herself. Much as he would like to believe it was simply that she found him utterly irresistible, it was also quite possibly a ploy to avoid admitting her own inability.

Albus headed back up his staircase. He had left her but a moment ago, but already she was asleep again. Pulling aside the blankets, he repeated his earlier technique of waking her.

When he stopped kissing her, she made a face. "More potions?" It was clear she had no concept of the amount of time lapsed. The alchemist in him knew it was the numerous potions making her somewhat less than entirely coherent, but it still troubled him.

"No more potions. I thought you might like to take a nice hot bath with me."

"Now why didn't I think of that?"

The return of her characteristic wit helped to assuage him. At least, he hoped it was an attempt at humor and not that she had genuinely forgotten.

Not trusting her to walk on her own, he carried her to his private bath. Inside, he tentatively set her down on her own feet. Once he ensured that she could stand on her own, or at least leaning against one of the sinks, he set about turning on all of her favorite taps.

After stripping off his own clothes and turning back around, he was surprised to see her standing there still fully dressed. "Do you need me to-"

"-No! I…I think I've changed my mind." The hand not helping to brace her was moving fretfully at the top button of her high necked hospital nightdress, but it was her eyes, darting back and forth between the mirror and him, that tipped him off. "I'm very tired. I'd like to lie down a little longer."

"Minerva…" The ever eloquent Albus Dumbledore was for once not sure what to say. "If you aren't ready, we don't have to."

"No, it's…" She stopped talking, but her fingers kept moving, this time unfastening the buttons. She gave a strangled gasp when the material gave way.

The healers hadn't been concerned with the finer details of appearance. The wounds were closed, but each had left a vicious mark. By far the largest was mid throat where the dagger had been sunk deeply into her flesh, but a less forceful, though longer mark was visible passing through the valley of her breasts. A number of smaller wounds accentuated the area of her chest.

"I know I should just be thankful to be alive, but…"

There was no denying that the scars were ghastly. As much as Albus had tried to mentally prepare himself for the worst, the reality exceeded any of his expectations. On seeing them, it had taken all of his self restraint to not outwardly react as well.

Still the words he said to her as he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders were true. "While I am sure that there exist some things I could possibly care even less about, I cannot at the moment think of one."

Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Minerva ran her fingers across the many small and few not so small lines. She was acquainting herself with the scars, but a certain part of Albus's anatomy merely registered that he was watching her touch herself.

When he cleared his throat in an effort to clear his mind, Minerva, hands still on her breasts, glanced back at him. Noticing his problem, she raised an eyebrow. "Really, Albus!" Still, he could tell she said it with some relief as his reaction answered for her an unspoken question.

Leading her to the bath, he helped her in.

In retrospect, it was a good thing that she hadn't tried the bath alone. Almost as soon as he finished sponging her back and allowed her to lean back against his chest, the evening off of her breath told him that she had fallen back to sleep. Escaping death at the hands of Voldemort only to drown in a bathtub would be the height of irony.

He sponged off her front and as far along her legs as he could reach. Her bath as complete as it was going to get with him pinned against the bath wall, he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Oh, my Minerva!"

Burying his head in her still dry hair, he let out a few tears of relief. "I thought that I had lost you."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Still in need of a beta if anyone is interested. Thought I had one, but she got away!

""""""""

By the amount of light streaming through the window, Albus estimated it to be mid-afternoon when he was woken by Minerva's nuzzling of his neck. For the first time in a long time they had made love that afternoon. It hadn't been nearly as ardent or arduous as their usual lovemaking - Minerva was still too weak for that - but it had been sweet and wonderfully reassuring nonetheless.

Though neither had sought to prolong it, but rather they had both given into their want and need as quickly as was respectable, he was still astounded that she was ready for more so soon. Therefore, when he looked down and discovered she was actually just nuzzling him in her sleep, he was somewhat disappointed, but not at all surprised. The nuzzling in her sleep was a cat habit that sometimes carried over from her animagus form.

It wasn't uncommon for an animagus to have some traits carry over to their human form and nuzzling was something cats were often known to do. It was actually a habit also common to kneazles. Very early in their relationship after having been on the receiving end of a similar experience, Minerva had accused him of being an unregistered cat animagus. He had amusedly informed her that she was wrong on both counts. He was neither unregistered, nor a cat animagus; he was a kneazle animagus and he very well was registered. He just wasn't on the published lists.

Only a few at the Ministry – now all but one deceased – knew that he had trained for the transformation during the dark days of Grindelwald. It was in the seemingly innocuous form of a kneazle that he had finally managed to get close enough to confront and defeat Grindelwald.

After Grindelwald's fall, given the superior utility of the form with the public - and therefore his enemies - unaware of it, Albus had requested his possession of the ability not be made public. That at least was the reason he had given to the head of the aurors, Lyndon Lyonesse, and the others involved. His true motivations were a bit different. With all the publicity and fanfare that had followed his defeat of Grindelwald, it was priceless to have a way to leave the castle without being inundated with people wherever he went. The anonymity to be able to get away from the world – or the image of what the world thought he should be – while still being a part of the world…

Even his own brother had never been told. Aberforth was many things – scheming, conniving – to name a few, but discreet or trustworthy were not amongst his known qualities. No doubt Albus could expect to hear an earful about it from Aberforth once it did become public knowledge. Barring special circumstances, Ministry files were typically declassified after fifty years.

Albus shifted to bring Minerva closer. Of course when she had questioned him, he had told her everything. Why wouldn't he? He trusted her implicitly. As recent events confirmed, she would _never_ betray him or his confidences.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Beta dilemma solved. Thanks M and thank you to all the other people who kindly offered their services!

"""

Heading up to his bedroom, Albus reasoned that the newly crafted potion he carried was a more than adequate cause for a visit to Minerva. All too frequently he found himself pausing in his work to go and gaze upon her sleeping form. He had spent so much time checking on her the first few days that he had accomplished little else. Now that Minerva was managing to stay awake for longer periods of time, he found himself being all too frequently enticed to do more than simply gaze.

While some of her exhaustion was because of her injuries, the blood replenishing potions had contributed greatly to her tiredness. Albus had arranged for Poppy to come by his office to examine Minerva a few days earlier. The school nurse had approved of cutting back on the potion schedule. Now that they were able to reduce the potion frequency, the exhaustion too had lessened.

The potion he now carried was _not_ one of replenishing. It was a potion to prevent…well all the things that Minerva – and truth be told he as well - desired. It was the same potion that he had been brewing for her to drink every month for fifteen years.

The potion slipped from his hand as he entered the chamber and saw her. A pile of pillows had her propped into a sitting position, but her eyes weren't open. Crimson covered one of her hands and the quill in it. More blood had stained the papers scattered on the bed before it pooled on the bedclothes.

A relapse? Poppy had sounded so confident in her assessment that things were going well. Or was it that Hogwarts was not as secure as he had thought?

Hastening forward, he saw the overturned inkwell and realized his error in time to avoid disturbing her. It was not blood, but red ink spilled everywhere. Glancing at the parchments on the bed he recognized them to be letters to potential first years. She appeared to have finished only two before succumbing to exhaustion.

He was relieved, but it was frights like this that made him never want to let her out of his sight.

He watched her peaceful expression and the steady rise and fall of her chest for a moment before pulling out his wand. It was a purely irrational act, but he couldn't stop himself from casting a spell to change the color of the ink. Reassured, he cast a spell to return the now green ink to the bottle. Watching _all_ of the ink return to the bottle, he cringed slightly realizing the carelessness of his spell choice. Minerva would be none too pleased to discover he had unwritten the letters she had finished – however few they were.

Of course, her displeasure at that would be nothing compared to her wrath when he finally worked up the resolve to tell her that he had given the task of writing the first year letters to Filius the week before.

Again looking down at her curled against his pillow, Albus was alarmed to see her expression was no longer one of contentment. The whole of her body was tense. Her eyes were still closed, but he could see her eyes darting around beneath the lids.

"Minerva."

She tossed at his speaking of her name, but didn't wake. She needed her rest, but this sleep looked anything but restful. Leaning over her, he softly stroked her cheek and spoke her name again to try to wake her.

She woke with a scream. Without opening her eyes, she began to tear at the hand on her face.

"Minerva! It's all right! It was just a dream! You're safe! You're with me!"

When he finally got her to open her eyes, she was horrified to see the marks she had made on him. "Albus! Your hand!"

Albus was far more worried about the gouges she had made on her own cheek. "It's all right. Fawkes will take care of it."

Fawkes was already there singing a song to try to calm her. He had all the wounds gone before Minerva had even noticed her own. Albus spoke words to reassure and comfort her, but made no further attempt to touch her. For her part, she remained on the bed, but she too kept her distance. From Severus, Albus knew what had occurred that night, but he had, for reasons purely selfish, never discussed it with Minerva. Now that he thought about it, to his knowledge Minerva had never had occasion to talk about it with anyone. Not, he realized, the best of methods for dealing with such a traumatic experience.

When she seemed as collected as she was likely to be for a while, he tried broaching the topic. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She shook her head without meeting his eyes.

"We really should talk about what happened that night." When she still said nothing, he stated the obvious. "Minerva, you're having nightmares about it."

Her denial started off adamantly but lost something by the end. "It wasn't about You-Kn…" She couldn't even _not_ say the name.

"Minerva-"

She began speaking very quickly and not at all convincingly. "-It was just a nightmare. It wasn't about _that_. It was…it was…about Mrs. Norris."

He would remember it ever after as the first time that she had lied to him. The first time that she had betrayed his trust. It was to be the first of many.

He realized that she didn't want to tell him of her ordeal for fear it would persuade him to again seek to drive her away. He started to formulate in his mind another attempt at getting her to talk about it, but she intruded on his thoughts.

"Just-please just hold me."

Looking into her eyes and again stroking the cheek that Fawkes had just mended, he spoke one word before enveloping her in his arms. "Always."

She wasn't the only one to tell a lie that day.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Thanks M for agreeing to beta check this. I take full responsibility for any remaining errors.

To the people who have been reviewing, I thank you. Your comments have been a great incentive. Please keep it up.

"""""""

Albus would have preferred not to meet with Alastor at his office in Hogwarts. He had agreed only because it would have looked odd for him to object. Seeing the enormous bouquet of flowers Moody carried as he arrived, Albus found a great deal more to object to.

"Don't tell me I forgot our anniversary again, Alastor."

"Funny." Alastor smiled. "You've got Minerva squirreled away somewhere and won't say where, but I thought you could bring the flowers with you the next time you go see her." Alastor was beginning to blush. "Just a little something to let her know I care."

Albus nodded, but once Alastor departed he subjected the flowers to every curse, hex, jinx, and anti-jinx detection spell he knew. Alastor was one of the people present at the meeting the night of Minerva's attack. Perhaps Alastor had had an ulterior motive for wanting to escort Minerva home that night. Until he had proof otherwise, Albus would consider his old friend suspect.

There was a card in with the flowers. He debated with himself a bit before opening it. He didn't _want_ to read what was inside. It wasn't jealousy, but there existed the possibility that the card was hexed, so really, he had no choice. He found the writing insipid and uninspired. He hoped Minerva would as well.

_Thinking of you._

He found Minerva in his bedroom at the desk trying to figure out why all the first year students had returned not one, but two responses. Given that some things were better left unsaid, he had never bothered to mention anything about Filius. Hopefully the muggleborns who had received the letter times deux hadn't found it too odd.

As soon as she turned and saw the flowers her face lit up. "Albus, they're lovely! When did you have the time to get them?"

She crossed the room and buried her face in the many colored blossoms before he had a chance to respond. "I didn't. They are from Alastor."

She immediately pulled back from the bouquet with a very different expression. "Oh."

"There is a card if you would like to read it."

She shook her head. "Not especially."

He set the flowers down on the desk. As they both stared at the affront to their relationship, the silence stretched between them in a way it never had before; awkwardly. They had spent the last month relishing in each other, but they had never really talked about what they were doing or plans for the future.

"Minerva, I think it's time we talked."

Her only response was to stiffen, bracing for the blow.

"Minerva, I would be willing, but I think we both know that things can't go back to the way they were. I don't think it would be enough for you anymore. Tell me if I'm wrong."

"No," Minerva agreed dolefully, "it wouldn't."

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke again. "We_ can_ be married. You can invite all of our friends and every colleague we've ever had. Get a few aurors to guard the gift table and you can even invite my brother, Aberforth. Tell all the world about us. And children – we can have children. As many as you desire-"

Eyes narrowed suspiciously, Minerva interrupted him. "What's the condition?"

She knew him too well. He said it as plainly as possible. "I would need for you to go into hiding."

Minerva sounded appalled. "Leave Hogwarts!"

He began speaking very quickly, explaining. "You wouldn't _actually _have to leave. With the Fidelius Charm you can remain. No one would even know you were here."

Her tone had such an edge to it that it made the question not really a question at all. "You've put a great deal of thought into this, haven't you?"

When he didn't respond, she continued. "Wouldn't that be letting…Voldemort win?"

Frustrated, he let out, "Voldemort is already winning!"

Trying to get a better grasp on his emotions, he continued. "Since Voldemort began attacking Wizarding families instead of just muggles, people have become more concerned. The Ministry has become more proactive and the papers have started reporting more, but…

"Things aren't going well for our side. We're outnumbered, outmaneuvered, outflanked…we weren't prepared for this.

"Every night the Order and the Ministry go out and we look for them, but there are only so many of us and there is _so much_ area to cover. We can't be everywhere at once, we're stretched too thin. Voldemort just has to find one opening in our defenses and it's all for naught. Every morning the papers publish a new list of the dead. We try to protect people, but _we can't even protect our own families_."

As she began her response, Albus could recall few times when Minerva had sounded this livid. "What about my work for the Order? You said yourself we are already outnumbered. Can we really afford to lose one of our numbers to your fears? And what of our friends? How do you explain to them that it's acceptable for them to put their lives and those of their families at risk, but we aren't willing to make the same sacrifices?"

"_Who was it that started this ideal of me as a paragon of virtue and selflessness? Of all that is right and good in the world?_ When did _I_ ever claim to be anything more or less than a man? Can't you understand, Minerva? I cannot lose you."

"But aren't we saying now that you _will _lose me? How is my taking up with Alastor keeping me?" Her anger was starting to peter out into exasperation. "Yes, Albus, being together there is a chance that you _could _lose me, but haven't we already agreed that if you do nothing you _will_ lose me?"

"_Not_ _like that_, Minerva. I cannot lose you _that_ way!"

More calmly, she tried to reason with him. "Albus, didn't you say long ago that 'it's not You-Know-Who who poses the real threat?' Aren't you the one that said, 'It's the people who refuse to choose sides, who through their action or inaction will decide the outcome of this war?'"

"Minerva…" All the reason and logic in the world was useless to overcome his emotions. "…I _cannot_ be swayed on this."

"So where does that leave us?"

His answer wasn't much of an answer, but it was the only one he had left. "We have the rest of the summer - if you want it."

She shook her head dismayed, but made no further attempt to convince him. After a few minutes of silence, she put one of her hands over his in a gesture of commiseration. "We had best make the most of it then."


	13. Chapter 13

The doors to the Great Hall opened. As Minerva strode inside at the head of the first years, the Hall erupted into thunderous applause. The Gryffindors were naturally the loudest, but it wasn't for the Ravenclaws' and Hufflepuffs' lack of trying. Even the better part of Slytherin House was joining in. Mistaken in the belief that the applause was for them, the first years grinned broadly.

Albus couldn't help but smile himself, watching Minerva blush as the applause refused to die down. When she gazed his way, Albus gave a slight bow of his head and raised his goblet to her.

He had kept his word. He could not abide the thought of putting her in anymore danger than she already was in. They had said their goodbyes and shared his bed for the last time the night before.

Minerva seemed to have finally, if not willingly, resigned herself to it. She hadn't tried to reason with him or alter his resolve. Perhaps it was the fact that this time it had been her choice, and not a unilateral decision on his part? Whatever the reason, she had had a certain calm, a contentedness to herself that hadn't been there before. It had made things considerably easier, but Albus wouldn't exactly describe himself as joyful at her obligingness.

Still, one did what had to be done.


	14. Chapter 14

Having taken the list Alastor offered through the Floo, Albus waved the auror off. Returning to his desk, he perused the names of the night's casualties. Halfway down, a name caught his attention and made him halt.

Albus knew so many people, he traveled in so many circles, that seldom was there a morning that he couldn't recognize at least a few names. Wizengamot members seemed a particular draw for Voldemort, but there was no shortage of former students, ministry personnel, and other old acquaintances for him to choose from.

"Albus?"

His just finished breakfast sat heavily in Albus's stomach as he contemplated this latest name. What possible threat had he posed for Voldemort? Having been retired from the Ministry for more than thirty years, the man had had no involvement in any of the work against Voldemort. The man had been elderly and in poor health - he likely wouldn't have lived much longer even without Voldemort's interference!

How much longer could this continue? Clearly the Ministry and the Order were impotent to put an end to Voldemort and his followers, so how long would it be before the Death Eaters' penchant for death and devastation would cause them to turn on their own? How many more lives and families would they destroy before their appetite for destruction caused them to consume themselves?

So distracted and distraught was he that Albus didn't even register the other presence in the room until he felt the parchment being taken out of his hand. He turned to find Minerva, arms laden with the paperwork from the just finished first week of classes.

Minerva. Minerva, whom he had so recently almost lost. Minerva, whom he so recently _had lost_.

She found the cause of his distraction easily enough. She knew him so well. "Oh Albus! I'm so sorry - your friend Lyndon."

He wished he could say that it had been Minerva taking advantage of his moment of vulnerability, or at least that he honestly couldn't remember which one of them had been the one to make the first move, but it had been him.

As she started to express her sympathy, one of his hands moved to caress her cheek. She just looked at him inquiringly while his other hand took the stack of parchments from her arms. He watched her eyes follow the stack as he missed the desk by more than a foot.

The papers were still falling when he pulled her towards him.


	15. Chapter 15

Afterwards, lying in bed with her in his arms, he was filled with regret. Whether it was for what he had just done, or for what he was about to say – he wasn't sure.

"Minerva, I - this doesn't change things."

"I know." She said nothing more, but he could tell that she was hurt.

"I'm sorry. I just-"

Covering his mouth with her hand, she interrupted. "Albus, I said I know. You don't have to keep explaining. I know what this was and what it wasn't. Let's just enjoy today and start over again tomorrow."

He couldn't stop himself from replying as soon as her hand had moved. "Did you forget you have plans with Kettleburn tonight? He mentioned it when I ran into him in the Staff room."

He felt her cringe, but she didn't say anything in response.

"Where are you two going?"

Minerva shrugged. "I didn't ask."

"He isn't planning to take you into Hogsmeade, is he?"

He could tell she was getting a bit testy. "Albus, which part of 'I didn't ask' did you not understand? Was it the 'didn't' or the 'ask'?"

"You shouldn't let him take you off the castle grounds. It's not safe."

"Albus, can we really_ not_ have this conversation right now?"

He did manage to contain himself, but only for a minute. "I know I encouraged Kettleburn, but now I'm having regrets."

Surprise clear in her expression, Minerva finally turned to look at him. Perhaps given the circumstances, he should have chosen his words more carefully. He spoke again to clear up any confusion. "I don't really think Kettleburn is the right one for you. I think Alastor would be a much better match."

It was, perhaps, that small misunderstanding that put so much fire in her voice. "Oh yes, he'd be a much better match – for you! I can see it now - Alastor and I getting married with you standing there as best man, dinner together every Sunday - just the three of us – that is, until the children start coming along. Boy or girl, you can bet Alastor will insist on naming the first one after you - you, after all, being the one who brought us together. And Alastor would never be the wiser, because, of course, even though you and I wouldn't be involved anymore, it still wouldn't be safe to tell anyone, least of all Alastor.

"So I get children and a cuckolded husband and you get to keep on playing the part of the selfless martyr. Oh yes, I can certainly see where you would think him the better match!"

It wasn't that her points lacked validity, or that he was trying to be deliberately obtuse, it really wasn't.

"Kettleburn, when I ran into him in the Staff room, he said some rather despicable things about you."

That seemed to startle her out of her diatribe – or at least pique her curiosity. "And what pray tell did Kettleburn say?"

"He said…he said-" Albus debated on exactly how much of what was said in the Staff room was necessary to repeat.

It was well known amongst the staff that Minerva, in an attempt to avoid the awkwardness that could be expected should things not work out, had a rule about waiting until the third date to do anything that might make a professional relationship difficult to maintain. It was a rule that she had decided on when she first came to Hogwarts to teach and she had held fast to it in the intervening years. Even Albus had had to make it to the third date before…

In the Staff room, Kettleburn had suggested that given Minerva's recent near death experience she wouldn't be so… inhibited.

He blurted it out rather ineloquently. "He said he doesn't think you will make him wait three dates. He thinks he can get you to put out on the first -"

He broke off as she rose and began putting back on the garments he had so recently removed for her. Unintentionally or not, he appeared to have again succeeded in driving her out of his bed.

"You know I miss you…my offer still stands."

"Maybe he _won't_ have to wait." Without bothering about the rest of her clothes, she transfigured into her animagus form and departed.

Albus sighed and tried to tell himself that it wasn't the news of her plans with Kettleburn that was causing him to be such a horse's ass.

He had seen her go on dates many times over the past fifteen years. People would have noticed if she had turned down every invitation, so on occasion she had accepted. The three date standard had served them well. She would go on one or two dates with a gentleman, but nothing would ever come of it. Afterwards, if he wasn't in her rooms, she would always come to seek him out. Lying in bed, to amuse him, she would recount all the awkward moments and the not-so-subtle attempts at seduction.

So yes, he had seen her go on dates before, but there was no mistaking that this time was different.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N Thanks again Maria.

Minerva hadn't _really_ survived the Death Eater attack. She was dead.

And this was hell.

Less than ten minutes into their date, Minerva had solved the mystery of why a man as good looking as Kettleburn was unattatched with not a prospect in sight. The man's idea of a romantic first date was to take her to his office to watch a fwooper and a peacock ... procreate. In place of background music, they had his pet jarkey providing a running commentary, but only when the ferret-like creature wasn't making lewd suggestions of his own.

She averted her eyes as the fwooper _again_ began shaking its tail feathers. Attempting to make conversation, she shouted over Kettleburn's pet jarkey, "So… do you do this often then?"

"Oh yes!" Kettleburn readily responded.

It was a shame she and Albus weren't together anymore, Minerva thought. The amusement that man would have derived from hearing about this evening! She never would have heard the end of it from him. Then again, maybe it was just as well.

"I've successfully crossbred a puffskein and a gerbil as well as a bumblebee and a billywig. Really, you can crossbreed anything if it's closely enough related."

"What about a dragon and a dragon fly?"

"Ah…no." Her humor, like so many things, seemed to escape Kettleburn. "Those two sound alike, but they aren't really similar structurally."

Minerva was about to comment about both having wings, when a more serious thought occurred to her. "What about…" Minerva hesitated, "…a kneazle and a cat? Surely, they couldn't…"

"Of course they can. Haven't you ever seen a cat-kneazle mix? They're really not that uncommon."

Minerva went quiet, lost in her own thoughts.

"So…" Kettleburn's arm began to snake around her middle. "…does this give you any ideas?"

Minerva answered honestly, "Disturbingly enough ... yes, I think it does." She turned and in her most breathless voice continued. "I think it's time to go back to my rooms."

Kettleburn grinned lecherously before turning to contain the two love birds. "Let me just get these two back in their cages and we'll-"

He turned back just in time to see the tail of Minerva's animagus form go out the door.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Thanks M

Entering the staffroom, Albus discovered the school librarian and two of his professors with their heads together whispering. Feeling just a bit paranoid, he inquired. "Not conspiring against me, I hope?"

Filius waved his hand dismissively at the idea. "No, we were just talking about McGonagall and Kettleburn. Tonight's the night, you know."

Albus corrected him. "This is only their second date."

"They sat together at the Quidditch match last night."

"That doesn't count as a date! The _whole school_ went to the Quidditch game. He didn't take her anywhere before or after. He didn't buy her anything. Hagrid sat on her other side. His sitting next to her wasn't even prearranged – he had to ask me to move to do it. It does_ not_ count as a date."

"Oh, I agree…"

Albus calmed a bit…until Filius continued.

"…but I'm pretty sure Kettleburn is counting it."

"Why do you say that?"

"He ran out of cologne so he came to my rooms looking to borrow some."

Albus was at a loss. "He borrowed your cologne? Couldn't he wear cologne to a second date? Why does wearing cologne signify a third date?"

"He spritzed it in his pants."

"That's…that's…" Dumbledore stuttered.

"Presumptuous?" Offered Sprout.

"Vile?" suggested Filius. "I'd go with vile."

Madam Pince begged to differ. "I think it's thoughtful."

"No, I'd go with vile." Filius insisted.

While he agreed wholeheartedly with Filius, Albus had no time to stay and debate the few merits or the many shortcomings of Kettleburn. He had to get to Minerva at once. He had to at least attempt to again warn her about Kettleburn.

Rushing down the corridors in his animagus form, he recalled his own third date with her. With circus tickets in hand, he had arrived promptly on time only to find the usually punctual Minerva unprepared. Or so he had believed.

She had opened the door still in her dressing gown. After inviting him into the sitting room, she had retreated to the bedroom. Albus was beginning to get put out by the wait and anxious that they might miss the opening parade when she called for his assistance in the other room. Entering with the expectation of lending aid with a clasp or a button – and wondering why her wand could not suffice, he was surprised to find her sitting on the bed, still in her dressing gown.

Before standing to allow her dressing gown to fall to the floor to reveal a rather becoming negligee, Minerva had very calmly and very logically suggested that as both of them were aware of what the third date signified, in the interests of avoiding an evening filled with awkwardness, she suggested that they start the evening off by…

Had the circus only been in town for the one night, Albus would have been faced with a dilemma. However, as the circus was staying for several more nights, the choice was easy enough to make.

It was that memory that caused him such anguish as he neared Minerva's rooms and the door, once and still charmed to open at the approach of his animagus form, opened to reveal her sitting at her dressing table still in her dressing gown.

Seeing his reflection suddenly sprout up in the mirror as she rubbed color into her cheeks caused her to turn and rise.

Was she, he wondered, awaiting Kettleburn in the same manner? Or was she still dressing?

"Albus?" She questioned his presence with just his name and a raised eyebrow.

Having to know the answer, he approached and pulled at the tie keeping her gown closed.

"Albus, now really!"

Beneath he found undergarments of the comfortable variety – not the sort one wore to 'impress'. Which wasn't to say he wasn't, as always, impressed.

"Kettleburn," he warned her, "thinks that this is your third date."

He suspected it was disdain that he detected in her tone as she replied. "Kettleburn thinks a great many things."

He wondered, if it was disdain, why she was still allowing him to call on her?

"Now unless you have a knut in your pocket, the peepshow is over."

Pulling a coin out of his pocket, Albus caught her hand as she sought to redo the tie. "And what can a galleon get me?"

Minerva laughed, but her eyes held a nervousness that was uncharacteristic. "I don't know that this is such a good idea."

"As always, my dear, you are correct." He agreed as he moved closer to kiss her.

Neither paid attention to the repeated knocks at the door shortly after.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N Thanks M for beta checking this. I made some last minute changes so blame me if there are any errors.

Reviews greatly appreciated.

It being a new month, Albus knew it prudent to be cautious. Still, he looked apologetic as he entered Minerva's rooms with the potion. Though her gaze immediately fell on it and remained there, Minerva made no effort to take the vial from him. It was several minutes before she finally spoke.

"I know from the start you said that you wouldn't have children, but I always believed that you would come around to the idea eventually. Something would happen to make the danger pass … or at least to make you think that the danger had passed. Or one day you would just all of a sudden realize how incomplete our lives were without one.

"I used to fantasize about what our daughter would be like. Her hair would be auburn like yours, but thankfully her nose would be straight like mine. She would be taller than me, but not as tall as you - an amalgam of sorts. Her fingers would be long and thin – good piano playing fingers. I could tell you every last detail about _our_ little girl. I could even tell you what her voice would sound like, but no matter how hard I try, I cannot even begin to imagine what a child with Kettleburn or Alastor would be like."

Listening to her talk, Albus wanted to believe that he hadn't realized how much he was hurting her, but that wasn't true. He had known. That was why he had finally insisted on ending their relationship earlier in the year. As much as it pained him, the time had come to be stalwart. For her sake and his, he had to stop indulging in moments of weakness like the night before.

"Minerva, I wish that there were some way that we could have what we want. I really do."

"Do you? Do you really?"

Having already caused enough damage and assuming the question to be a rhetorical one, he left her to the potion.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N Thanks Maria for all your hard work. Thanks also to Abigail for all your kind words and support.

Entering his office, Albus dropped his traveling cloak right where he took it off. That had to have been the least useful meeting he had had all week – and given the number of meetings that he had had to attend, that was saying a lot. As to why it had been scheduled for the middle of the night that was yet another mystery that no one at the Ministry seemed to have an answer for.

He rubbed his eyes as he approached his desk. How he wished that he wasn't returning to so much paperwork. He had been in his office since dinner trying to get through it all. Right now the only thing he wanted more than just to crawl into bed was to find a certain someone to crawl into bed with, but he doubted the Board of Governors would be understanding if he showed up tomorrow afternoon without a revised budget and at least some semblance of having read the individual governors' recommendations.

Like many wizarding children, as a child Albus had, on occasion, caused things to happen just by thinking them.

Upon reopening his eyes, he had to briefly wonder if in his exhaustion he might not have done something of the like again. Gone were the many untidy scrolls of parchment that had formerly littered his desk. He briefly entertained the thought that if that were the case, perhaps the best way to deal with Voldemort would be to simply put all his efforts into wishing him away.

Only one solitary and orderly stack of parchment remained to mar the beauty of the exposed wood. Seeing a familiar script written into the margins, he realized what – or rather - who had happened.

A copy of the school budget remained before him, but it was not his own. It seemed Minerva had been by while he was gone and switched his as yet unread copy with her own heavily notated version.

Getting through the original papers in even one night would have been a grand achievement, but a momentary look told him he could get through her condensed version in a mere fraction of the time. Indeed her notes on the Governors' recommendations were concise enough that were it not for certain comments of hers, he might have been tempted to just use them at the meeting. However, while Albus agreed with Minerva - Stansworthy did appear to have 'entirely too much time on his hands' and Figg was 'quite possibly a bigger blowhard than Stansworthy,' - he doubted either would find it very enlightening to be informed of it.

Minerva always seemed to know just what he needed and when. It was the reason he had oft been heard to refer to her as his 'right hand' - a bit too often the events of the past summer suggested. Given all the meetings and emergencies, he didn't know how he would have done it all without her.

He had been in his office all evening, save for this one meeting. It was such a short one, it seemed odd that they had managed to miss each other.

Unless of course it was deliberate.

Not at all liking that idea, Albus decided it time for a chat with the purloiner of his papers. When he finally found her, it did not escape his note that it was not in her private rooms or her private office, but rather in her very public Transfiguration classroom.

He didn't knock, but opening the door he made no effort to be quiet. For her to not even glance up from her papers, it was clear that she was ignoring him.

"You look tired." He observed.

Her quill still moving furiously, she still didn't bother to look up at him as she retorted. "And you look old."

"I am old."

"Well there you have it."

Their version of pleasantries having been exchanged, he inquired. "Are you avoiding me?"

Her tone was tart as she replied. "That would be rather difficult to do – what with our sitting next to each other at breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"Are you avoiding being alone with me?

He could see the frustration as she half-dropped – half-threw her quill down on the desk and finally met his gaze. "It would seem the wise thing to do, would it not?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I suppose it would."

Minerva paused a few beats before pointing out, "Yet here you are."

The pause, he did realize, had been intended as an indication for him to leave.

Albus frowned, dismayed. "I don't care for this. I don't care for this at all. Is this the way it is going to be from now on?"

Leaning back in her chair, Minerva sighed. "Not forever, but…yes, for a time."

Albus realized he sounded like a pouting child, but there was nothing to be done about it. "How long of a time?"

"Albus, I don't know. A few weeks-"

"It's already been a few weeks!"

She was beginning to sound more vexed as the conversation continued. "Then a few more weeks! Or months or maybe even years! I don't know. How long do you suggest it should take to stop loving you?"

He didn't have an answer for that – just another question. "And what then?"

Albus realized that his earlier expectation – that their relationship would simply revert back to the way it had been before, minus the consummating - had been wholly unrealistic. There was no going back to the playful flirtation, and while they were often exchanging longing glances, the sweetness was gone to their bittersweetness.

She folded her arms, erecting one more barrier between them. "Then we are just left with the awkwardness. Until one of us decides that they have finally had enough of it and leaves – which, given the circumstances, would most likely be me."

Very much not liking that idea, Albus shook his head. "If one of us is to leave the school, by rights it should be me. You currently seem to be doing more of the Headmaster's duties than I."

"But just think of all the extra work I could be doing for the Order if I wasn't busy teaching classes all day – of course you would have to tell Alastor to stop withholding assignments from me. Was that your doing or did he come up with that idea all on his own?"

Knowing he was damned regardless, Albus for once chose the wise course and held his tongue.

Her tone was becoming much less harsh as her anger appeared to be dwindling. "Albus, you know you can never leave here. Without you, it wouldn't be Hogwarts."

"Ah, but what would it be without me? Am I the 'Hog' or the 'Warts' in Hogwarts?"

His attempt at using humor to diffuse the tension falling severely flat, Albus asked quite earnestly, "If you believe it's only going to end in your leaving Hogwarts anyway, why must we be apart and miserable? Why not marry me?"

The look he received in response…if it were anyone else looking at him that way, Albus would be reaching for his wand.

He suspected it was because he was still making no movement to leave that after a few moments of stony silence she changed the topic to one more difficult for him.

The conversational tone of her voice did not match at all well with the glare he was receiving. "I told Kettleburn that I didn't consider that Quidditch game to be a date. He very begrudgingly accepted it, but now he is insisting on counting that_ other_ night as a second date. He says he was there and it's not his fault that I wasn't."

Albus knew she was referring to the night a few weeks ago when he had come to her rooms.

"We've scheduled another date for tomorrow-" She corrected herself "-actually by now its probably tonight."

Albus wanted so badly to tell her that Kettleburn was not the right one for her – or from what he had heard in the Staffroom - anyone, but he held his tongue.

It was fairly obvious that she was trying to run him from the room by talking about Kettleburn, but he refused to go. It was one thing to have lost her company in the ways that he had, but he couldn't abide the thought of losing her companionship entirely. He would have to show her that there was no awkwardness on his part. He would simply have to get past his jealousy and the feelings he still harbored for her.

Trying to appear sociable, he inquired, "Where will you two be going?"

"Does it matter?" She cut him off curtly, but then answered anyway. "He wants to take me to see some film about a Roman emperor. Caligula, I believe it was. He's already seen it. He claims it's magnificent."

Albus had expected an answer of a stroll around the greenhouses or a picnic by the lake…or perhaps a harsh response from Minerva about not planning on leaving her rooms. Not wanting it to seem as if he were objecting to Kettleburn, Albus decided he would approach the other man directly about not taking Minerva off the castle grounds. "That should be nice. You do enjoy historical dramas."

"Mm…" Her next words were in that same conversational tone – as if they were sitting over tea discussing the latest edition of the Prophet. "Do you know what my biggest regret – for lack of a better word - is about our relationship ending?"

Not sure how to answer, Albus didn't. If Minerva was trying to keep him from feeling at ease, she was doing a spectacular job of it.

"There was something I always wanted to try with you that I was just never able to work up the courage to mention. Unfortunately, it's not the sort of thing that Kettleburn would be capable of doing."

While Albus could think of a plethora of things that Kettleburn wouldn't be capable of doing, he was intrigued by the idea that there was something that Minerva hadn't felt comfortable suggesting. After fifteen years together, he was hard pressed to think of anything that they hadn't tried at least once, if only to be able to say that they had tried it.

Knowing he should let it be, but unable to contain his curiosity, Albus prompted her. "Go on."

Still that glare, yet she beckoned him. "Come closer. And close the door."

He flicked his wand at the door as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. The smile brought to his lips by her breath tickling his earlobe died a swift, but cruel death as he took in her words. Before responding, Albus paused for a moment to think about what Minerva had just suggested. Really, was it any worse than the time he had asked her to wear his old Puddlemere United robes and paddle his backside with his beater's club? Thinking about it, he had to admit, it was.

Still, she hadn't balked at the idea when he had asked

It wasn't that he was deeply disturbed by the idea that _that_ was Minerva's secret fantasy, and it wasn't that he was trying to get out of helping to fulfill said fantasy, however… "To be honest, I'm not entirely sure that that would work. I don't know that I can control that sort of…function while in my animagus form. Certainly, I've never tried before."

He caught a glimpse of a look of utter disappointment and defeat on her face before she began to wring her hands and turned away. "You're right. It was a mistake. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Taking her refusal to meet his gaze as embarrassment, Albus realized if anything was going to lead their relationship to a whole new level of awkwardness it would be leaving this…dream of hers spoken, but unrealized.

"_Please _just forget I said anything-"

Turning her to face him, he put his lips on hers to get her to stop talking. When he broke the kiss, she looked unsure, hesitant. He took another kiss for luck and another for courage before he transformed.

After he transformed, she still stood there, vacillating.

She stood there so long, he was about to transform back when she finally gave in to her want.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N Thanks as always Maria.

Reviews greatly appreciated.

Albus Dumbledore awoke to a most delightful sensation. There was no mistaking that there was another person in the room, but he had no fear that it was a _Death_ Eater. Indeed, if Death Eater attacks were anything like this, he would seriously need to reconsider his opposition to them.

For a few moments he simply lay there, enjoying the experience as he had many a time before, but eventually his sleep addled mind caught up with what was going on. Opening his eyes, he cast the blankets aside to reveal the form beneath. "Minerva, what are you doing here?"

It was, he realized belatedly, an entirely unnecessary question. "Minerva, you can't be doing this."

She didn't stop. She continued what she had been doing, offering no explanation for her actions – not surprising since she would have had to stop what she was doing to explain.

"Minerva…_please_." The way it came out, even he wasn't sure if it was meant as a plea to stop or a plea to continue.

When she finally ceased, removing her mouth from him, he felt a twinge of disappointment. He felt more than just a twinge - though not of disappointment, as she dragged her body along his until they were face to face. She shifted herself to a slightly different position, straddling his legs, but hovering over what was currently feeling like his largest lower extremity. He placed his hands on her shoulders, meaning to push her away. Instead, he inexplicably found himself pushing her downward, causing himself to penetrate her. "Oh Minerva!"

She needed no further invitation.

Again reason and realization struck him. "Minerva, we can't be doing this."

Increasing her tempo, she put a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Minerva, we talked about this."

That at least finally got a verbal response from her. "We talked about a lot of things."

It was too hard to concentrate on anything but what she was doing to him. Giving up, for now, on trying to reason with her, he pleaded. "Slow down."

Grinding herself against him, she continued to ignore his requests.

He was growing quite desperate. "I need you … to … slow down." She seemed deliberately determined to work against what he thought would be her interests.

She had caught him unawares. He hadn't been prepared for this. She had taken him too far, too quickly, giving him no chance to recover himself.

He really should have been more forceful in trying to stop her. These occasional lapses had to end. While they felt so wonderful, so right at the time, they were just tearing open the wound again. Still, he realized, now was not the time to discuss it. Having taken a moment to somewhat recover himself, not wanting to seem an absolute cad, he attempted to return the favor.

Her behavior was much out of the ordinary. There was no lingering afterwards. She didn't leave the bed or the room, but as soon as he was done, she rolled onto her side facing away from him. Now as he attempted to slip one of his hands between her legs as a prelude to other things, he found her knees locked firmly together. Trailing a line of kisses from her collarbone to her jawbone, he found her still uncooperative. He looked at her inquiringly, but she averted her eyes.

Reversing the direction of his kisses and slowly blazing a path lower likewise had no effect.

Perplexed, Albus half sat up. "You didn't already…you couldn't possibly have?"

Her eyes still refused to meet his as she offered a completely unfathomable response. "I have what I came for."

Still facing away from him, she nestled into him. "Go to sleep, Albus."


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Thanks again Maria.

Kind of short I know, but at least the wait between them isn't long. The next one should be quite a bit longer.

"Albus."

"Albus?"

"Albus!"

Given the frequency with which it happened, Albus would have thought that his body would by now have started to adjust to being woken from a deep sleep. Such was not to be. Each time there were those moments of disorientation. Reaching for his spectacles, he tried to find his bearings and the source of the voice that he would recognize no matter how deep his slumber.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated from behind, Minerva looked to him a vision in her plain white high-necked nightdress. A vision that he shouldn't be having.

"Minerva, we can't-"

He let off abruptly as he realized though she wore no dressing gown her expression was hardly amorous. She was trembling. Loathe though he was to admit it, he doubted it was in anticipation of him. He suspected the cause to be another of the nightmares that had on occasion plagued her since the attack.

"Come and sit with me for a bit."

"Of course." He answered, but she had already turned to head toward a room not so suggestively furnished.

Summoning his dressing gown, he followed. He draped the gown around her shoulders and relit the dying embers in the grate before taking the seat beside her. He offered neither refreshments nor the diversion of a table game, knowing that if she wanted them she knew where in his office to find them. He waited, allowing her to be the first to break the silence.

Between long, comfortable pauses they spoke of the school, its students, and classes, of the Order and the Ministry, of events current and past – in short of anything but the attack.

It was in one of those long pauses that she finally spoke of what was troubling her.

"I am worried and I am frightened."

"About Voldemort?"

Her eyelids shuttered for a moment at the name, but she went on speaking. "And you."

He offered no response other than the confusion evident on his face.

"I've done something, Albus. I've done something that I'm not sure you will be able to forgive me for."

He didn't ask what it was. He thought it quite obvious. When Albus had approached Kettleburn a few weeks ago about his plans to take Minerva off the castle grounds, he had discovered that Minerva had postponed her plans with the Care of Magical Creatures professor. Clearly, she had rescheduled. "Oh Minerva, there is nothing to forgive and besides there is nothing that I couldn't forgive you."

It was his own fault. He had driven her to it. It wouldn't last – this thing with Kettleburn. Minerva had more sense than that. Any dalliance she might have with Kettleburn was just that - a passing fancy. Soon enough, if she hadn't already, she would realize how completely beneath her he was.

Looking into the fire, she spoke so softly and unsure. "I do hope you are right."

Putting a finger under her chin, he turned her toward him. In spite of his earlier resolve, he found himself leaning forward, wanting to show her his forgiveness.

Ducking her head, she momentarily allowed his lips to fall chastely on her brow before resting her head on his chest.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N I know the British have a different word for 'hide & seek' but I can't for the life of me remember it and none of the on-line sites are being particularly helpful at the moment.

Thanks again Maria for the super quick turnaround time.

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Minerva wasn't in her classroom. She wasn't in her office. Nor was she in her rooms.

Albus sighed. As much as he normally enjoyed a good game of hide and seek, he just hadn't the time today. Fervently hoping it would reveal her to be in the Great Hall or the library, or anywhere other than a certain other professor's private rooms, he removed his wand from his robe sleeve to cast a locator spell.

The response he received – it wasn't possible - showed her as not in range. For that to be true, she would have to be past the school's grounds – past the castle's protections.

Dread and anger bubbling up inside him, he cast the spell again, but this time on a different subject. The spell gave the same response.

Cursing himself and the both of them, Albus set off for the castle entrance at a most undignified pace. The things that he would do to that man – if only he could get to them before Voldemort did.

On a landing just before the castle doors, Albus came across a most unusual sight.

"Give him here!"

"No, I won't!"

Watching Arthur Weasley grappling with a first year, Albus would have been wondering why exactly Arthur was attempting to steal the first year's pet kneazle if his mind wasn't paralyzed by the knowledge that Arthur Weasley shouldn't be there. Having long since graduated, the clerk from the Ministry's Magical Law Enforcement Office had no reason to be at Hogwarts. The Fidelius charm should have kept him from being able to locate the castle…unless something had happened to the school's secret keeper.

Having succeeded in wrenching the kneazle from the first year and noticing Albus's stare, Arthur blushed. "Nasty business this."

Before Albus could respond, Alastor Moody and Frank Longbottom arrived.

Alastor questioned Arthur, "That the last one?"

At Arthur's nod, Frank went back the way he had come.

Almost to himself, Alastor bemoaned, "Poor Minerva. Some people, the only luck they seem to have is bad luck."

Albus didn't understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to, but still he asked. "What about Minerva?"

Arthur seemed surprised by his ignorance. "Surely you've heard about the attack?"

"What attack? What happened to Minerva? Where is she?"

Alastor looked taken aback. "You mean you don't know?"

Albus was growing frantic with the lack of answers. "Of course I don't know. If I knew, do you really think that I would be asking? Now someone tell me what happened to Minerva!"

Neither of the other two men would answer nor even meet his gaze. Again, this time louder, Albus asked. "What happened to Minerva?"

Walking into the castle, Kettleburn, eloquent as always, was the one to finally answer him. "She got rogered by a kneazle."

Albus knew what the term meant, but … "What?"

"It's true." Arthur affirmed with a shudder. "She came to my office at the Ministry and told me _everything_." Sounding as if he himself wanted no part in answering any further questions, Arthur pointed to Kettleburn. "Professor Kettleburn was with her. He can tell you … all the details."

"Yeah, I was with her. Some date. I try to put my hand up her frock and she starts crying about a kneazle. It kind of killed the mood. I didn't want to deal with her so I brought her to the Ministry."

It didn't make sense. Why would Minerva go to the Ministry about what had happened between them? Had someone seen - Kettleburn perhaps? Had Albus not been the only one to go looking for Minerva that night? But if Kettleburn had seen, exactly how much had he seen, and why had he waited so long to come forward? None of it made sense.

"Where is Minerva now?"

Alastor motioned to the door. "I thought it best she stay put until we rounded up all the kneazles. Found the one responsible."

Arthur held up his freshly won prize. "I'll bet it's this one. He looks to have the right coloring."

"No, it isn't that one either." Everyone turned at the sound of Minerva's voice.

Frank Longbottom was standing beside her, a supportive hand at her elbow.

Arthur insisted. "Are you sure? He's the right coloring."

Minerva shook her head. "He's too well kept. This one was much more scraggly."

Arthur looked a bit dejected. "It's been over a month. He might not even be in the vicinity anymore. Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Arthur wondered why she hadn't said anything sooner, but Albus still wondered why she had said anything at all. Something wasn't right.

Minerva's shrug, it looked too amused. "I don't know. I was ashamed, I suppose. I didn't want anyone to know…"

When she moved one hand to rest on her abdomen and cast a hesitant glance his way, Albus finally realized exactly what was going on.

"…but everyone is going to know soon enough."

Sounding agitated, Kettleburn broke the silence brought on by Minerva's words. "Do I still have to be here?"

Kettleburn headed further into the castle while Frank Longbottom, Arthur's kneazle in hand, headed back out.

Arthur looked quite apologetic as he seemed to wonder aloud. "But I still don't understand. Couldn't you have just changed out of your animagus form when it…started to happen?"

Minerva shrugged. She looked almost amused. "I already told you, it was all over so quickly."

Despite his shock, if only internally, Albus had to object. It wasn't _that_ quick and after all he had warned her that he wouldn't have the best of control over certain things.

Moody looked more outraged by the question than Minerva did. As he took Arthur from the room, Albus could hear the auror berating the young man. "Never blame the victim!"

When the door shut, Minerva started to close the distance between them. "Can we talk?"

When Albus shook his head, she paused in her advancing.

"I didn't mean for you to find out this way. I thought I would have time to see you before someone else told you. I knew I couldn't tell you first. You never would have agreed to go to the Ministry."

With all the adrenalin still rushing through him from this most recent fright, he couldn't think straight. "Not now."

"And I didn't dare talk to you about the idea beforehand because I knew you would never have agreed to any of it."

Incredulous, he asked, "And did you think that by doing it this way, by announcing it to the rest of the world first, that I wouldn't object? You knew I would never agree to it – then why do it!"

"Albus, I know-"

"-_Not now!" _He just couldn't hear any more of it right now.

She went quiet, but a moment later he had to ask. "Just tell me one thing. Tell me that isn't really when we…"

"Merlin no!" she cried, revolted. "That was just in case anyone didn't believe the story. So I could take Veritaserum and answer truthfully. It was after."

"When I woke with you in my rooms, but that was only one time."

Smiling hesitantly, she reached for his hand. "What can I say; you are very potent for such an old man."

Incensed by her apparent amusement, he pulled his hand away. "Did you think this through? Did you think this through at all? No one is actually going to believe this story." Given the presence of several Ministry personnel at the castle rounding up kneazles, Albus amended his statement, "For long. And even if they did, have you considered this child? Have you put any thought into what this child's life would be like? You know how cruel people can be – especially children!"

She looked slightly annoyed that he had pointed out a few of the many obvious flaws in her ill-advised scheme. Or perhaps it was that he had not immediately become overcome with joy at the prospect she had put before him. Had she really no concept of the peril that she was putting herself in?

"I admit it isn't a perfect plan. It has a few drawbacks."

His mind awhirl, he continued lambasting her. "A few drawbacks? A few?" It was all too much for him at the moment. "Just stop talking."

"Albus, I know you're angry right now, but give it some time to settle in. I know you will come around to the idea."

"Angry? You think I'm angry? Angry doesn't even begin to cover it!" If she wanted to talk so badly, he would give her something to talk about. "Severus knows about us."

Albus could visibly see the color leave her face. If she had seemed amused before, she certainly didn't now. Now as she realized how very close Voldemort was to knowing, she looked much more the part that she was playing.

Alastor chose that moment to walk back into the room. The usually astute auror mistook the cause of her pallor as something else. "You shouldn't be standing."

Minerva allowed herself to be lowered into a chair.

Ignoring Alastor's presence, Albus continued. "You aren't staying here. Give me a few minutes to make other arrangements for you. Pack only what essentials you will need for the night. I will bring the rest of your belongings to you in the morning."

Albus was ignoring Alastor, but Alastor was doing no such thing. "How dare you! How dare you blame her for what happened!"

"Alastor, stay out of this!"

"The hell I will!"

"Alastor, this doesn't concern you." Albus had forewarned Minerva of what his terms were for having children. Maybe not in words, but clearly in deed she had accepted, and he had every intention of holding her to that agreement. There wasn't just her safety and happiness to be thought of now – there was the safety of their child.

More opposition rushed into the room in the form of several of the staff members.

"Kettleburn just told us what happened. Is it true?" Sprout sounded as though she wouldn't really believe it until she heard it from Minerva's own lips.

If he had the time to properly consider it, Albus might have realized that something seemed not quite right about Hagrid's response. "I never would have believed he would do something ter hurt yeh!"

Minerva allowed Poppy to pull her into an embrace. "You poor dear! Why didn't you say anything before?"

"To think; a kneazle! I can hardly wait! When do you deliver?" Filius seemed far too excited and not nearly horror-struck enough by the situation.

Wanting to put an end to any speculation as quickly as possible, Albus made Minerva's announcement for her. "Professor McGonagall is resigning her post and leaving – effective immediately."

Minerva's words were faint as her face was pressed into Poppy's shoulder, but they were loud enough for the others to hear. "This is my home. I don't want to leave Hogwarts."

"And you won't." Poppy assured her, stroking her back. The school's nurse was giving him a glare worthy of one of Minerva's own. "Let's get you to your rooms so you can lie down."

Albus shook his head, adamant. "She isn't staying here another night. I won't have it!"

Filius and the others looked more scandalized by his reaction than they had been by the news of Minerva's claims.

What he would and wouldn't have, didn't seem to matter to anyone else.

Pulling back from Poppy and still looking every bit the part, Minerva spoke. "I think I would like to lie down."

Without so much as another glare, Poppy, Filius, Hagrid, and Sprout formed a phalanx around Minerva and led her up the stairs.

It was Alastor, his voice and his expression ripe with disgust, who had the last word. "I would have thought better of you."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N Thanks again Maria

I'm very please to see that so many of the readers from when I first started are still with me )

As always, reviews greatly appreciated.

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Going round the corner, Albus caught sight of Filch smoothing out the creases on one of the numerous fliers posted around the school announcing the ban on pet kneazles. Immediately, Albus turned to head in the other direction, but he was already too late – Argus had spotted him. Albus turned down corridor after corridor at random hoping to debride himself of the castle's caretaker, but Argus, Mrs. Norris cradled in his arms, kept pace.

"More has got to be done!"

Just how many times, Albus wondered, would he be forced to have this conversation with Argus? "Everything that can be done has already been done, Argus. All of the students' pet kneazles have been sent home."

"But that isn't enough! Minerva saw all of them before they went. The kneazle that attacked her wasn't among them."

Albus shrugged. "You could always put up more posters."

Argus wouldn't let it go. "That kneazle could still be here. We have to do something!"

Albus sighed. He really had enough on his plate all ready, thank you very much. After over a month, the Ministry had finally given up on trying to find the kneazle responsible, but the same could not be said of Alastor Moody. Stansworthy and several other of the school's governors had been pressuring for a meeting since the scandal went public. Knowing that the meeting would be about dismissing Minerva, Albus kept putting off the scheduling of it, but he wasn't sure how much longer that would hold them off.

After Minerva's little display that day, all - save one - of the staff had turned against him. Even the elves, who should have known better, had turned on him. He tried as much as possible not to even think about what the Daily Prophet had been running about the story. Yet as horrible as the allegations they were making were, no one was yet suggesting the obvious – that Minerva had fabricated the entire thing.

He had thought about just telling the Governors and everyone else the truth – forcing Minerva's hand, but that didn't seem wise. What if she still refused to go into hiding? Better to let her story fall apart of its own volition. He suspected then she would be more amenable to the idea and she wouldn't have cause to be angry with him - which wasn't to say that he didn't have cause to be angry with her.

He had never before in his life felt so betrayed by someone – no doubt because he had never before in his life trusted someone so absolutely.

When Minerva had again approached him to discuss the situation a few days after her revelation, he had sent her back along her way. He had told her that they would talk when, and only when, she agreed to live up to her part of their bargain. Since then the majority of their communications, entirely school related, had been conducted via the extremely childish and entirely inefficient method of owl post. As pigheaded as Minerva could be, this was one time that Albus knew he would not be the one to give in.

And of course Voldemort was offering no concessions in his behavior just because Albus was having difficulties in his personal life.

So in short, he could really do without a hysterical Filch.

"Argus, it wasn't a kneazle – it was me. I am the father of Professor McGonagall's baby. As I feel absolutely no attraction towards your cat, you and Mrs. Norris can rest easy."

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

Albus sighed. There was nothing at all funny about the current situation. "All right Argus, what do you suggest we-"

Any thoughts of what Argus would have him do were lost as they passed the Staffroom. Albus could hear moaning within. It was a moan with which he was quite familiar. _Intimately_ familiar one could even say, Albus having on several occasions through great exertion caused that very moan to be heard, though never in the Staffroom – well at least not while school was in session.

Wondering what exactly was going on, he pushed open the door.

Minerva was reclined on one of the sofas with only her head and shoulders visible over the edge. Kneeling on the floor before her, visible only by virtue of his sheer enormity, was Hagrid.

Her eyes closed and a blissful expression on her face, Minerva purred. "You have the most amazing hands, Hagrid."

Minerva and Hagrid were far from the only ones in the room. If any of the others found their activity out of place, they didn't show it.

Stepping closer to see over the back of the couch, Albus was able to determine that Hagrid's 'most amazing hands' were only at work on Minerva's feet.

"Have yeh any names in mind?"

Minerva answered with a smile and without any hesitation. "Juliet."

"That's a right nice name. And fer if it's a boy?"

"Oh, it's a girl."

This was wrong – it was all wrong. He should have been there with Minerva in Poppy's office when the school's nurse did the necessary spells to find out. He shouldn't have to be overhearing a conversation in the Staffroom to find out that they were going to have a little girl.

They were going to have a little girl - it really was going to be a girl! Minerva was finally going to get the daughter she had always dreamed of having. He knew he was being terribly outdated, but knowing their child was going to be a girl only strengthened Albus's resolve. A little girl needed a father that she could claim as her own.

It was only a foot rub and it was only Hagrid, but still Albus did not care to think that another man was causing Minerva to make _his_ particular moan. Not to mention that his plans of getting Minerva to agree to leave the school would probably be progressing much better if the rest of the staff wasn't being so accommodating towards her.

"So good to see that you have time for a foot rub, Professor McGonagall. May I take that to mean that the monthly expense summary is finally on my desk?"

By the look on her face it was clear that it was not.

"If your duties are getting to be too much trouble, perhaps you should consider resigning them. I'm sure Filius would be up to the task."

"Filius certainly would not be!" came the rather hot reply from Filius.

Minerva's reply was considerably colder. "I'll have them on your desk by the end of the afternoon."

With a nod, Albus turned and left. With that detour he had managed to rid himself of Argus, but in his place he had acquired a much larger traveling companion.

"Just how long are yeh plannin' to stay mad at her?"

Albus tried walking faster, but given Hagrid's height advantage, Albus knew he had no hope of outdistancing the other man if he didn't want him to. "I don't know what you mean."

"I know why yeh're upset."

When Albus kept walking, not saying anything in return, Hagrid raised his voice. "We both know this_ rogue_ kneazle story is codswallop."

That got Albus to halt. He turned quickly to see if anyone else had been around to hear. Heading into the first empty room he came across, Albus asked, "Hagrid you haven't told anyone else – have you?"

"O' course not. Wouldn't be my place."

Albus put a hand to his face in despair. Hagrid knew. Albus had thought that he had been thorough in obliviating Hagrid last summer. Had he, in his haste, left some clue behind? Hagrid's secret keeping skills were...if Hagrid knew, soon everyone would know.

"Professor, I'm sure she didn't mean no disrespect to yeh or the school. It's just that accidents happen."

"This was no accident!"

Hagrid nodded sympathetically. "I was beginnin' to suspect as much."

"In all the years I've known her, I never could have imagined her capable of something like this!"

"Well love can make a person do many a thing yeh wouldn't expect them tah do."

In a way, Albus was glad Hagrid knew. Finally he had someone to confide in about his feelings. "How could she have deceived me like this?"

"Oh yeh mustn't think of it like that!"

"I _wanted_ to give her a child. I would have willingly given her a child. I told her I would give her anything she wanted if only she would marry me. She wouldn't."

"Oh. Oh! Bugger and Blast!" Suddenly, Hagrid seemed a lot less comfortable with their conversation. "Well yeh know you can't help who yeh fall in love with. Yeh have to understand, I don't get the idea that this was just a passin' thing. I've seen that kneazle hangin' round the castle for years. I can't tell you how many times I've caught sight of 'im leavin' Professor McGonagall's rooms in the wee hours o' the morning."

"What kneazle?" Albus frowned slightly confused. Exactly what was Hagrid trying to get at?

"So she picked a kneazle over yeh. Yeh loved and yeh lost. What more can yeh do?"

Albus just stared at Hagrid dumbstruck.

Before leaving, Hagrid whacked him on the back in what Albus surmised was supposed to be a comforting gesture. "Do try to be a bit easier on her."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N What can I say, not every chapter is going to pop. Some are just transitional. Hopefully the next chapter will seem more interesting.

Thanks again M.

Prior to the start of this year, as far back as Pomona Sprout could recall, Minerva had hardly ever spent time in the Staff room. It wasn't that she wasn't sociable enough when time permitted, it was just that time seldom permitted. She was always holed up in her own office, or Albus's, working on school matters.

Pomona suspected the change had something to do with what had occurred over the school break. Wasn't there supposed to be something about a near death experience that made a person reach out to other people? If Minerva had spent more time in the Staff room, she would have gotten to know Kettleburn more – Pomona wouldn't say better because knowing more about Kettleburn was never better – but if Minerva had gotten to know Kettleburn a little more, Pomona doubted that Minerva would ever have dated the man. If Minerva had spent a little more time in his company when he wasn't making an effort to be on his best behavior while courting her, she would have known Kettleburn for the petty and vindictive shallow shell of a man that he was.

Instead, she was learning it now.

Filius put his hand up - as if that would really get Filch to stop his blathering. "Argus, take it up with Dumbledore. I don't want to hear it anymore."

"I've been to Dumbledore! He won't do anything to help! But I've come up with a plan!"

Kettleburn chanted in a sing-song voice. "I'm not listening! I'm not listening!"

When Filch looked her way, Pomona lifted her book a bit higher to avoid his eyes. Whatever this plan was, she doubted it would be anymore successful than his recent attempts to accio the kneazle.

Kettleburn and Flitwick were still ignoring Filch, enjoying their spirited game of Exploding Snap, when Minerva walked into the Staffroom. Looking tired but determined, her eyes immediately settled on Kettleburn.

Naturally as she had been the topic of conversation, the conversation died out immediately. Pomona doubted that she was the only one grateful not to have to hear Filch's plan. Filch had been going on for weeks now about the need to find the kneazle responsible, for the safety of all the castle's cats. Ever since the _incident_ had become known, he had refused to let his cat out of his sight. He had been carrying her with him everywhere– even going so far as to escort the poor thing to the litter box.

Minerva looked around at the suddenly silent room a moment before sounding anything but sorry, she started in on Kettleburn. "So sorry to intrude on your game, but-"

Kettleburn cut her off. "-Don't intrude, then you won't have to be sorry."

Minerva's eyes flashed. "I wouldn't have to be here at all if your incident report was on my desk as you promised it would be two days ago."

A student had been bitten during one of Kettleburn's classes the week before.

"What can I say? I really screwed the pooch on that one." When Minerva didn't take the bait, Kettleburn tried again. "Yes, isn't it a shame when people make promises they have no intention of keeping?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Just because I said I won't sleep with a man before the third date didn't mean I was somehow obligated to sleep with you if we made it to a third date."

Kettleburn mumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like, "Go fuck a duck."

Minerva had apparently heard it too. "What did you just say?"

Rather than pretend to have said something else, Kettleburn just repeated it louder. Now that, Pomona thought wryly, was class.

"Just get the bloody form."

Kettleburn accioed the form and handed it to her.

Form in hand, Minerva headed for the door, but only made it halfway before turning back. "You haven't filled it out!"

"Oh…didn't I?" Kettleburn feigned innocence poorly as he added another card to the pile.

Minerva exploded all the snaps and then some. "I haven't been able to keep any food down for two days now, I haven't slept in at least twice as long, my breasts are swollen, my robes are uncomfortably tight, and my feet have long since past the point of aching because I no longer own a single pair of shoes that fit properly. All I want to do is go back to my rooms and get into bed, but I can't do that until I have your bloody form. Now would you be so kind as to finish filling it out?"

"All right! All right! I'll finish the form." Kettleburn paused a moment before very deliberately adding, "Try not to have a kitten about it."

As a little snort sound escaped, Minerva's hand went up to cover her mouth. Her delicate frame began to shake, and without another word, she turned and left the room.

Pomona had had enough. "Now really Kettleburn, that was going too far! You made her cry!"

"She wasn't crying! She was laughing!"

Filch immediately piped in. "Of course she was crying. Who wouldn't be crying in her situation - with that kneazle still on the loose and you all unwilling to do anything about it! Now do you want to hear my plan or not?"

Kettleburn spoke for them all. "Not!"

Filius tried to be a bit more understanding. "Argus, all the students' kneazles were sent home."

"Yes," Filch admitted, "but they showed them all to McGonagall as they were sent and she said none of them were the one. The kneazle that did this to her is still on the loose!"

Kettleburn didn't see the problem. "So? It's not like the kneazle can do anything more to her. The damage is already done."

Now that he had finally succeeded in dragging the others into his conversation, Filch wouldn't let it go. "That's fine for her, but what about the other cats around? Who's going to protect them? What's going to stop that kneazle from – from- from-" The castle caretaker was working himself into a real tizzy. "What if he comes after poor Mrs. Norris? If a full grown witch couldn't fend him off, what's my Mrs. Norris to do?"

Kettleburn sought to calm him…sort of. "Argus, I never told you this before, because, well I wasn't sure how you would take it, but you really leave me no choice. Mrs. Norris isn't."

"What do you mean 'isn't'? Of course she is!" Filch's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "'Isn't' what?"

"Mrs. Norris is really…" Kettleburn paused dramatically. "…Mr. Norris."

"That's a lie! That's a filthy lie!"

"Argus, haven't you ever noticed Mrs. Norris trying to hump the other cats?"

Filch held his ground. "Mounting is a show of dominance!"

"Yes," Kettleburn insisted, "and it's also a show of being a boy cat."

That was it. Filch lost it. Spittle was flying everywhere. "I'll show you! A castle full of wizards and not one of you are willing to do a blasted thing! If you people won't do anything to stop that kneazle, then I'll do it myself!"

Having succeeded in making two people leave the room in hysterics in under five minutes, Kettleburn merely shrugged. "You know, I'm surprised. I really thought he already knew."

Pomona glanced at the clock. "Perhaps someone should go check on Minerva?"

Kettleburn dismissed the idea. "Oh, she's fine."

"She didn't look fine to me." Sprout disagreed.

"Don't worry," Kettleburn chided her, "she gets over things quickly. I mean, am I the only one who thinks she's taking all of this just a little too well? She's already got a name picked out."

With a wave of her wand, Pomona gathered her things. "Someone really should look in on her. I'm already late for my next class or I would."

Filius sighed. "Fine, I'll go, but exactly what does one say in a situation like this?"

Kettleburn shrugged. "Take her shoe shopping. Don't all women like that?"

Going out the door, Sprout rolled her eyes, but said nothing.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N Thanks again M! And don't worry, there is a special place in hell for FW!

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Albus looked at his watch – already it would take more than mere magic to get him to his next meeting on time. He really hadn't the time for this tomfoolery. He should just summon an elf to inform Minerva that he was leaving the castle – call it progress or regress, but the more efficient house elves had replaced owls for their communication needs.

He really should just use an elf to save time, but the truth was he wanted to see her.

He was still angry and hurt and a hundred other things, but he was also worried about her.

Minerva had missed breakfast that morning and she hadn't been looking well of late. He just wanted to see her and assure himself that she was all right. He still wasn't ready to even begin the conversation that they would eventually need to have, but he was already running so late that he had a perfectly valid excuse for not getting dragged into any long discussions.

Given the hour, Minerva's last class of the day would already have been dismissed. Assuming she would have returned to her rooms, he headed that way.

He still had trouble believing it – any of it.

He couldn't believe that people actually believed Minerva's tale. He had been so sure that by now her story would have begun to unravel like the emperor's new clothes – that someone would have the sense to stand up and say 'Bollocks!' It was a testament, he supposed, to her reputation and _alleged_ integrity, that people were accepting her story. To be sure, there were a few, like Hagrid and Kettleburn, who had expressed doubts about certain aspects of Minerva's story, but Albus couldn't believe that no one had yet come forward to truly attempt to refute it.

And most of all, he found it inconceivable that Minerva would have deceived him. A part of him understood that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, but that knowledge didn't make it any less of a betrayal.

Reaching the door, he knocked once, twice, thrice to no answer.

Her bedroom was past the sitting room – if she were asleep, perhaps she hadn't heard his knocks. He could try knocking louder of course, but if she was asleep, did he really want to wake her?

Quietly letting himself inside, he crept through the sitting room. Finding her not in bed was mildly reassuring. If she hadn't retired to her rooms at the end of classes, surely she couldn't be feeling that unwell. He would just go on to his meeting. After all, just how long could he expect the Minister to keep everyone waiting for him? Perhaps if he hurried, he could be back in time to see Minerva at dinner.

Heading back towards the door, he saw it – or rather he didn't see it. Minerva's travel cloak was not hanging in its customary spot by the door. While he was sure there were a hundred other plausible reasons why it was missing – Minerva had worn it to go down to Hagrid's cabin to again experience his 'most amazing hands', or the elves in charge of laundry had absconded with it – he _knew_ that none of those would be the case.

This feeling of having the rug pulled out from under him was becoming unwelcomely familiar.

Drawing his wand to cast the locator spell that he _knew_ would fail as out of range, Albus vowed that the next time he saw her; he would put a permanent tracing spell on her.

Not having the first idea where Minerva could have gone, Albus hadn't the first idea where to start a search. All he could do was wait for her to return. Sitting there, with nothing else to do, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering to all the horrible things that could be happening to her and their child right at that very moment. All while he just sat there waiting for her to return – and wondering _if_ that would ever happen.

He must have sat there for almost an hour – waiting and worrying, his anger and outrage growing, before she finally deemed to appear.

He could hear her in the hall – laughing and saying her goodbyes to Filius. Finally entering the room, weighted down with shopping bags, she looked startled to find him there.

She recovered quickly. "Good evening, Albus. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

His anger – at her disappearance, the sound of her laughter, the flippancy of her question, at the whole situation – left him momentarily speechless.

She moved further into the room, discarding garments as she went. Watching her undress before him, he wondered if she really thought that he could be seduced so easily.

She lost the incriminating travel cloak, her outer robes, even the blouse beneath. It had been a few months now since he had seen her disrobed. The changes to her body, while not unexpected, were startling. The breasts she exposed as she removed the final layer of her garments were fuller, than he recalled and her formerly flat abdomen was beginning to become convex. Seeing that slight swell, he felt the urge to reach out and place his hand there – no doubt that was Minerva's aim - but he refused to forget his anger so easily. The moment was soon lost as she began donning items from the bags before her.

He saw the glance she stole his way, as if trying to gauge his mood, before she again spoke. "I can't wait for you to see the bedding set Filius helped me pick out. It won't be delivered until tomorrow, but Albus, it's absolutely darling! And the dresses -"

Her attempt to start a conversation infuriated him. It should have been him, not Filius, picking out items for their baby. "It's one thing to put yourself at risk, but how dare you endanger our child for some ridiculous shopping excursion?"

Minerva continued moving about the room, changing her robes, as if nothing had happened. "Albus, it was the middle of the day and I didn't go alone. Filius escorted me - he's a dueling champion, you know. It was perfectly safe."

"So not only did you endanger my child, but Filius as well. Do you really think Voldemort cares about the time of day at this point? He just wants you dead."

He saw her cringe at the name and it was hardly as if his last words were reassuring, but still she tried to keep her tone blithe. "If you are so concerned about _your_ child, perhaps you would like to have a conversation about plans for the future?"

"Wouldn't the time for discussing plans with me have been before you pulled your little stunt?"

Minerva sighed. "Albus, don't be angry."

He snapped back. "Don't be angry? What would you have me be?"

When she didn't immediately answer, Albus made to leave. "I have a meeting."

"Albus…" Finally there was some gravity to be found at least in her voice. "…are we ever going to talk about this?"

He was still far too hurt and angry to talk. Minerva's cavalier attitude and decision to go gallivanting around Hogsmeade hadn't made anything easier. "I have to get back to the Ministry."

"Albus, we have to talk some time."

He really needed her to let the matter alone for now, but she seemed adamant. "What do you want to talk about, Minerva? How you deceived me? How you betrayed me? How you destroyed any faith or trust I ever had in you?"

The look on her face, it was as if he had struck her, and a wretched part of him found satisfaction in that. Wanting to hurt her as she had hurt him, he continued – so what if he didn't actually mean the words he said? "Did you really think that you could trap me into marrying you this way?"

Hearing her repeat his words, he knew he had succeeded in getting her own anger to flare. "_Trap you into marrying me?! _How many times the past few months did you say you wanted to be married, but only if I would go into hiding for safety? Who exactly was trying to trap whom?"

Her voice was more hesitant now. "I found a way to have what we both wanted. I thought you would be happy."

"You found a way to have what _you_ wanted. I never asked for this. I never wanted a child."

Now she sounded entirely unsure. "You did. You do – I know you do."

Her disregard of his wishes had hurt him deeply. Not being able to find her in the castle earlier had frightened him. He knew now was not the time to be having this conversation, but she had pressed the matter. "Why would I want to have a child with someone I can't even trust?"

Less excitedly, he continued. "I trusted you, Minerva. With everything I am and everything I have, I trusted you. You betrayed that trust. I don't know that that can ever be regained."

The earlier exuberance was gone from her voice. "Where does that leave us?"

He answered truthfully. "I don't know."

After a moment, he stood. "I really do have to be getting back to the Ministry."

She nodded in acknowledgement of his need to leave. Though she was trying to hide it by fidgeting with the flowers on the table before her, he could see that her lower lip was trembling. "Maybe we can talk more later?"

Nodding, he turned towards the door. He was almost to it when he heard a cry and the breaking of the flowers' vase. He half wondered if she had thrown it at him, but turning, he found her doubled over.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N Thanks again M.

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Hearing the door, Poppy looked up. She knew at a glance that it wasn't good. For one thing, Minerva had so far neglected to come to her for any prenatal care – that was perhaps because of a comment Poppy had made after escorting Minerva to her rooms the night that Minerva had made her announcement. Perhaps she should have tried better to contain her excitement about the prospect of chronicling the differences between this and an ordinary pregnancy, but really, just how many articles could one person be expected to publish on Quidditch mishaps and engorgement charms gone wrong?

And more obviously, Minerva wasn't merely being supported by the Headmaster, he was carrying her. Poppy rushed over as he set her down.

Minerva's hands were pressed against her abdomen. "Poppy it hurts!"

"What happened?"

She had addressed the question to Minerva, but while Minerva gave out with a cry of pain, it was Albus who answered. "I really must be going. I have a very important meeting."

Poppy nodded. He had done his duty and delivered Minerva to the Hospital Wing. It was hardly as if Poppy expected him to stay.

"Don't go!" One of Minerva's hands grabbed at Albus's. Apparently, she did.

He didn't even look at Minerva as he responded. "I have a very important meeting. I really must be going."

As another cry subsided, Minerva pleaded with him. "Albus, it hurts and I'm so afraid! Please stay!"

He didn't even have the decency to look apologetic. He wore a vague, almost bored look. "I really must be going. I have a very important meeting."

Tears had begun to slide down Minerva's face. "Albus, I'm sorry! It was wrong, the way I went about things, but you can't possibly leave now!"

It was hardly a secret that the Headmaster did not approve of the situation that Minerva found herself in, but still Poppy found his reaction surprising. Surely any other man would have been swayed by Minerva's pleas, but the Headmaster was not to be won over. "I have a very important meeting."

Obviously Minerva was in pain, but to do anything about it, Poppy needed to know more. "Minerva, I need to know what kind of pain it is. Is it constant or shooting? Did it come on suddenly or have you been feeling unwell for a while?"

Minerva wasn't listening. She was too busy screeching at the Headmaster. "Stop saying that!"

Given Minerva's frequent and sudden shrieks of pain, Poppy gathered that while the pain might be constant, it must at times intensify.

Poppy turned to Albus for information. "Was she like this when you found her? Or was she unconscious? Could she have fallen?"

"I really must be going. I have –"

Poppy said it with him. "-a very important meeting – yes, we know." This cold-heartedness was a side to Dumbledore that most people never got to see.

Every time Minerva cried out in pain, he just repeated himself louder.

Whatever was wrong, Minerva was in too much pain to speak for herself and apparently Dumbledore couldn't be bothered to concern himself with such mundane matters as the health of his deputy and her baby. Poppy's diagnostic spells would have to speak for Minerva and her child. Poppy started casting them.

Albus was beginning to raise his voice and of course Minerva's was already up. Between the two, Poppy was having trouble hearing what she needed to hear. Since only one of the two actually needed to be there… "Albus, if you have to go then go!"

Minerva begged to differ – quite literally. "You can't leave me!"

"I really must be going! I have a very important meeting!" The way he kept repeating himself – he sounded like one of the suits of armor with their holiday carol enchantments running out.

Seeming to momentarily forget the pain she was clearly in, Minerva's focus was entirely on the Headmaster. "More important than this baby?"

Of course, Dumbledore had an answer for that. "I really must be going."

Again and again he said it, but he made no attempt to actually go. Minerva had finally stopped begging him to stay. She was still crying, but now it was a silent, almost choked cry that Poppy thought to be even more pitiful.

Seeing Minerva's fingers still twined around Albus's, Poppy thought that to be the reason that Albus couldn't go. Needing some quiet to work, Poppy tried to separate them so Albus could be on his way. When she pulled on Minerva's hand, she discovered that Minerva wasn't the problem. Finally tearing the Headmaster's hand away, Poppy saw that his hold had been so tight that his nails had broken the skin of Minerva's hand in several places.

Dumbledore insisted that he had to leave, yet he was the one with the death grip on Minerva. The Headmaster always was an odd sort of duck.

Needing the space Dumbledore was standing in, Poppy gave him a slight shove in the direction of the door. Once in motion, he stayed in motion.

While the Headmaster's presence had hardly been comforting, it had provided a distraction for Minerva. Now that he was gone, her focus returned to the problem that had brought her here.

"Poppy, what's wrong with my baby?"

The news was not good. The baby was in distress. Another spell confirmed what was already obvious. "Minerva, you're having a miscarriage."

"No!" Beginning to sob, Minerva turned her face away. "Don't say that!"

"I'm so sorry, Minerva. Let me give you a potion to sleep through the worst of it."

Turning back, Minerva's expression was somehow both at once furious and pleading. "No! No! No! You have to do something!"

Poppy hesitated before responding. There were any number of things that she could try to do – there was no guarantee that any of them would work – but there were things that she could try to do. Brushing the tears away from the younger witch's face, Poppy chose to do what would be best for Minerva.

"There will be other children, Minerva. Lots of other children." Children that weren't half-kneazle bastards forced upon her by some animal. "In time you will meet a man, fall in love, marry, and have all the children you desire. And looking back at these past few months, it will all seem like a bad dream-"

Minerva was adamant. "I want _this_ baby! Oh Poppy, you have to help my baby!"

Poppy tucked some of the many errant strands of hair behind the other witch's ear. "Minerva, really, it's for the best, dear."

"She keeps moving!" Minerva was nearly hysterical now. "I can feel her moving inside of me! I can feel her!"

Poppy knew that she _should_ just allow nature to take its course, but the desperation in Minerva's voice weakened her resolve. Poppy began to cast spell after spell to try to diagnose the exact problem. The spells told her what she already knew; that the baby's respiration and heart rate were ominously high. But they couldn't discern why.

"Hush now, Minerva. I need you to calm down. I know you are frightened, but try to relax. Your being upset is not helping the baby."

Minerva nodded. She stifled her sobs, but the fear and desperation in her eyes remained. Her words came out in a way Poppy had never heard from Minerva McGonagall before; meekly. "I can feel her kicking."

Poppy squeezed her hand. "I'll be right back."

Having exhausted her own knowledge, Poppy needed to seek outside assistance. Using the Floo in her office to contact St. Mungo's, she hadn't even time to get past the Welcome Witch before she heard Minerva crying out from the other room.

"She stopped moving! Oh Poppy! I can't feel her anymore!"

Rushing back out of her office, Poppy began recasting one of the earlier spells. She frowned at the result.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N Thanks again Maria.

Hopefully it won't cause too much confusion, but this chapter takes place during the same period of time as the last chapter. Also I just know ffn is going to distort the alignment of the first segment, but hopefully it won't seem too bad.

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A man had limits.

Limits to how much he could be expected to take – the mockery, the scorn, the indifference.

Argus Filch was used to it – he even _expected_ it – from the children, but he shouldn't have to put up with it from the staff. Still, when it was directed at just him, he could handle it, but when it extended to Mrs. Norris, that was his limit.

And as if Kettleburn's verbal attacks against _Mrs._ Norris weren't enough, there was still that kneazle on the loose. Something _had_ to be done about that kneazle. Unfortunately, there was also a limit to what Argus was capable of doing.

But now thanks to the Kwikspell company, Argus was limited no more – at least not as far as what he could do about keeping that kneazle away.

A room – no, a castle – full of wizards and witches and not one would lift a wand to help him. No matter, he had found a way to do it without them. Some people might find Kwikspell's latest product to be reactionary, or even fear mongering, but not Argus. Opening the box from Kwikspell, he carefully removed the device. Setting it on the ground, he pulled out the directions.

_**Kneazle-Be-Gone**_

_Tired of kneazles biting the head off of your familiar?_

_Not fond of finding your garden littered with bits of lawn gnome?_

_Frustrated by kneazles unearthing your tubers?_

_Are kneazles leaving their leavings on your Quidditch pitch?_

_Does a kneazle catch the snitch before you do?_

_Have kneazles impregnated your Transfiguration Professor one time too many?_

_Kneazle-Be-Gone will make all of your kneazle troubles go away._

_Designed for the witch or wizard who can't find the time to cast all the necessary repelling charms, simply place our pre-enchanted device in the area you wish to be kneazle free and click your heels three times. Powerful enchantments will be released to instantly ward away those unwanted pests. Safe and non-toxic, with the same patented spellnology as the rest of our line of Be-Gone products, Kneazle-Be-Gone works by reminding invaders of a prior engagement that they simply can't miss! Kneazle-Be-Gone is effective to a range of almost 1000 meters. _

_Get Kneazle-Be-Gone and be kneazle free in no time!_

_Look for our other fine repelling products at an outlet near you:_

_Muggle-Be-Gone_

_Lawn Gnome-Be-Gone_

_Lethifold-Be-Gone_

_Solicitor-Be-Gone_

_Troll-Be-Gone_

_You-Know-Who-Be-Gone_

So eager was he to begin protecting Mrs. Norris and the other cats in the castle, that once Argus reached the advertisement for Kwikspell's other fine products, he stopped reading and began clicking his heels. He never did get to the fine print at the bottom.

_Caution : For outdoor use only. Not for use in contained areas. Prolonged exposure can be fatal._

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Albus raced down corridor after corridor attempting to get out of the castle. He _had _to get to this meeting. It was such a very important meeting. He wanted to stop a moment to think about what was so important about _this_ meeting, but he hadn't the time to do that – the meeting was_ that_ important! At the edge of his mind, there was something else equally important – perhaps even more important – but he couldn't stop to think about that right now. He _had_ to get to this meeting. It was such a very important meeting. If only he could get there, then everything would be all right.

He was almost to the Forbidden Forest and the point past which he could apparate, when he remembered what that other important thing was – Minerva was in the Hospital Wing! Something was wrong with their baby! He had to get back to her! He couldn't fathom why he had left, why he wasn't still with her.

He turned, but he didn't get far before he remembered - he had a very important meeting that he _had_ to get to. Forgetting where exactly it was that he had just been headed, he again turned and made for the forest.

As the trees grew denser around him, he knew the forest was the place to be – except…

Minerva! What was he doing here? He had to get back to her. How could something as all important as that have slipped his mind?

Spinning on his heel, he again turned, but this time he only made it a few steps before it hit him – or since _it_ was a tree, more accurately, he hit it.

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As Kettleburn passed Filch on the castle grounds, the first thing that struck him as odd was that the other man's cat was nowhere to be seen. And even from afar, Filch seemed to have an air of complacency about him instead of his recent air of worry.

Kettleburn was debating whether he cared enough to investigate – he was leaning heavily towards no – when Filch called him over. Kettleburn considered just pretending he hadn't heard him, but the truth was, he was mildly interested.

Filch rocked back on his heels smugly as he gestured at something on the ground. "We won't be seeing _that_ kneazle around here again anytime soon."

"What is-" Seeing the box that formerly housed the item, Kettleburn stopped short.

Kettleburn wasn't buying Minerva's story.

Oh, he believed her baby's father was a kneazle, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he wasn't an idiot. He could count and the months just didn't add up the right way. His kneazle conversation with Minerva had occurred early in September. While Minerva claimed she couldn't remember the exact date of conception - she had 'tried to put the whole horrible experience out of her mind' – it clearly wasn't before their little conversation.

So looking back, given what he now knew, her question about cats and kneazles took on a whole new meaning.

Kettleburn was convinced that what happened was no accident. It really should be perfectly clear to anyone with even the slightest knowledge of animal husbandry that what had happened was no accident. Humans were one of the few species that copulated for recreation, not just procreation. Kneazles were _not_ one of the other few. Unlike Filch's cat, a kneazle wouldn't hump anything and everything that stayed in one spot for more than two minutes. Minerva had to have known exactly what she was doing and _when_ she was doing it to entice that poor kneazle.

So no, Kettleburn wasn't buying into the whole woe is me pity party that everyone else was.

But sure, while Kettleburn might not be the most stand up guy, and true he would prefer not to have to look at Minerva in her condition - knowing how she had gotten herself that way - even he had to draw the line at killing a baby.

"Bloody hell! Turn that thing off! Have you forgotten that Minerva's baby is half kneazle?"

By the look on the squib's face, Filch hadn't made that connection before now.

Filch looked down at the thing on the ground, up at the paper in his hand, and then back to Kettleburn before admitting, "I don't know how."

Kettleburn sighed disgusted. Filch was useless. Checking for some kind of an off switch himself and not finding it, Kettleburn tried a 'Finite Incantatem.' There was no visible change. Kettleburn wasn't sure if that was because his spell had had no effect or because the effects of Kneazle-Be-Gone weren't visible. Thinking it best to just get rid of it, he headed towards the Forbidden Forest. He would toss it in there for the centaurs to enjoy a kneazle free existence.

Filch followed. He was back to his old worried self, but this time not about his own cat. "It was only on for a few minutes. You don't really think it could have had an effect on a half kneazle that quickly?"

Kettleburn wasn't sure, but he thought someone – not him – should go and check on Minerva just to be sure. He half turned to tell Argus just that, when he stumbled over something on the ground.

Seeing Dumbledore lying there in the grass, his face obscured by blood, for a moment Kettleburn thought the worst. He wasn't the only one.

Filch asked him, "Is he…"

Reaching over, Kettleburn discovered that Dumbledore was only unconscious. His pulse was steady and his breathing only hampered slightly by his broken nose. His injuries weren't quite as bad as they looked. His nose wasn't the only bone broken, but it was the cause of the majority of the blood.

"Just unconscious."

Filch was in a panic and not thinking right. "We have to get him to the Hospital Wing!"

"No, we can't." Kettleburn pointed out the obvious. "Do you have any idea of the panic there would be if word got out that Albus Dumbledore was incapacitated? Take him to his rooms – use secret passageways – and I'll get Poppy to meet you there."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N Thanks again M for taking the time to beta.

Poppy frowned at the results of the test that she had just performed. It didn't make sense. The baby's heart rate and respiration had returned to normal levels, but she hadn't done anything. "Why would-"

"She's dead isn't she? That's why I can't feel her anymore – isn't it?"

Minerva was staring at her breathlessly. Realizing that her confused frown had no doubt been misunderstood, Poppy shook her head. "The baby is fine, dear. It worked itself up into such a frenzy before, it no doubt exhausted itself, that's all."

"I don't believe you. There is something you aren't telling me."

Minerva was too perceptive at times. There was something wrong with her little girl – something that Poppy wouldn't be able to fix. But now wasn't the time to get into that. "The _baby_ is fine. Listen." Poppy cast a spell to amplify the sound of the baby's heartbeat.

More tears, happy ones finally, filled Minerva's eyes. Once Minerva had calmed, Poppy went to end the incantation, but Minerva stopped her. "No! Please leave it."

Seeing no harm, Poppy acquiesced.

A number of tests later, Poppy found herself no more knowledgeable than when Minerva had first entered the Hospital Wing. "I don't know what caused it – too much stress would be my guess - but whatever it was, it seems to have passed. I want to keep you here a few days to be absolutely certain, but I can't find anything wrong with you or the baby."

"She's going to be all right?"

Poppy hesitated a moment. Deciding the Minerva was sure to find out the truth in a few more months, she corrected her patient with a tentative smile. "_He's_ going to be all right."

"He?" Minerva repeated the word in something between horror and wonder, as if the idea had never occurred to her.

"He." Poppy nodded.

Minerva cringed. "Almost everything I bought today was pink or yellow."

Poppy couldn't resist. "Not red and gold?" More seriously, she cautioned Minerva. "It's a bit early still to be…"

Minerva flinched and her hand moved to rest protectively on her still only slightly protruding stomach.

"…there are a lot of things that could still go wrong. Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves."

Minerva nodded. Poppy's words seemed to have deflated her excitement.

"It might be a good idea for the baby if you tried to spend as much time as possible in your animagus form, but right now I think the best thing for the both of you would be some rest." Finishing her suggestion, Poppy produced a small vial from a pocket.

Considering the circumstances around her last suggestion of a sleeping potion, Poppy wasn't surprised to see a look of resistance on Minerva's face. Poppy tried to assure her. "It's a very mild potion - just something to help you _get_ to sleep. If you start to have any more pains or discomfort, you will wake."

Poppy gave her another nudge. "Rest really would be the best thing for the baby right now."

Minerva still seemed hesitant, but she tipped back the potion.

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Kettleburn rushed through the Hospital Wing doors. He saw Pomfrey across the room, standing over an occupied bed.

"Poppy, Albus is in his office. You have to –"

Kettleburn stopped short as Poppy turned toward him, allowing him a glimpse of the sedated form she had been tending to.

He was an arse, but even he could only be so much of an arse. His voice was subdued when he asked, "She miscarried?"

Apparently Poppy didn't realize that even he had his limitations because there was quite the bite to her response. "Not yet." She gave him a quick once over with her eyes before proclaiming, "You don't look ill to me. So Albus is in his office and told you about Minerva and what? You've come to watch?"

Kettleburn shook his head. Suddenly Albus's injuries didn't seem so serious. He would just take care of them himself. "Never mind."

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Waking, Minerva wondered if Poppy had misled her about the strength of that potion or if her exhaustion was her own. Before finally willing herself to open her eyes, she listened for that wonderfully reassuring sound – the heart beat of her little boy. So much for fifteen years of hopes and dreams.

Less assuring was the absence of Albus once she opened her eyes. She had been so sure that she would wake to find him there, hovering by her bedside.

Minerva was disappointed to not see Albus at her bedside, but she quickly chided herself – it wasn't fair of her to have expected him to stay until she awoke. No doubt he had returned, been informed of her condition and the potion that would preclude her from waking until morning, and he had gone about his business. He had far too many matters to attend to to be squandering time just watching her sleep. Still, it would have been nice – especially after the way he had left the night before.

He had _said_ it was a very important meeting. And she knew it _must_ have been for him to leave like that, but still...

The flowers that he had left were a nice gesture. They were far and away the largest, most exquisite arrangement that she had ever received.

As soon as Poppy approached, Minerva inquired, "Albus isn't about?"

Poppy helped her to a sitting position in the bed and began fluffing her pillows to better support her. "He's in his office, but he's given orders not to be disturbed under any circumstances."

Minerva couldn't believe it. Surely the request didn't apply to her. "He actually said that to you?"

"Not personally. He told Argus. Speaking of which – aren't the flowers Argus brought lovely? I think someone has an admirer!"

"What flowers?" Minerva asked. She only saw the one arrangement.

Poppy gave her a concerned glance. She shined her wand in Minerva's eyes before pointing out the arrangement sitting between them.

"You mean they aren't from Albus?"

"He hasn't been by yet today."

"But he was here last night." Minerva refused to phrase it as a question. "What time did he get back from his meeting?"

Poppy didn't seem to realize the importance of her words. "That meeting was so short; I half wonder if he even went to it. He was back, holed up in his office, before I even had you asleep – and no, he hasn't been by."

"He…he didn't even come to ask about the baby?"

"No. Now Argus, on the other hand, has been hanging around outside that door all night wanting to hear how you were doing. You know, he is awfully fond of cats."

Poppy kept talking, but Minerva wasn't listening. She was absorbed in her own tumultuous thoughts.

"You are going to have a nice hot breakfast and then I want to give you another full exam. Now where are those elves with your breakfast tray?"

Certainly Albus had said things back in her rooms – very hurtful things – but she knew those things were only said in anger. He didn't really mean them. After fifteen years together, Minerva knew him better than that.

The things he had said in her rooms were actually progress. She hadn't been _that_ unrealistic in her ideas about how this whole situation would play out. She had realized that Albus would be angry and hurt by her deception – how ever well intentioned. She just hadn't imagined that he would succeed at holding it in this long. Now that he had finally expressed his anger over the situation, they could get past it and begin moving forward.

He would be back - full of apologies for what he had said and for having had no choice but to have left. He would be back to check on her and the baby – and it would be soon. She knew he would. Just as soon as whatever urgent matter had called him away last night was resolved.

Whatever the emergency was, she knew it had to have been desperate. It _had _to have been,to call him away from her at a moment like that…and keep him away for so long.

She just couldn't figure out how exactly it was that he was making it right from his office. No matter, Albus would explain everything when he came back – which would be soon.

It had to be.

Returning from personally retrieving the tray, Poppy set it down before Minerva. "Eat."

Minerva shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

Poppy moved it closer, insisting. "Did I ask if you were hungry? Now eat."

A tap at the window drew the attention of both of them. A very large, very un-owl-like bird was waiting there.

Poppy gave a gasp. "What is that?"

Minerva frowned. "I think…I think it's a stork?"

"What the devil is it doing here?"

In answer, the stork opened its bill to reveal an assortment of parcels. It tapped at the window again, this time more insistently.

"Merlin's beard! It thinks it's an owl!"

Minerva recognized the logo on some of the parcels. "It's the rest of the items I bought while out with Filius."

Poppy crossed the room to open the window for the very agitated bird.

Recent disappointments and Poppy warnings the night before making her very unsure of the future, Minerva shook her head. "Don't let him in."


	29. Chapter 29

A/N Thanks again M for making the time to look this over. Any remaining errors are last minute changes I made.

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Albus awoke to the most excruciating pain – in his head, his limbs, everywhere. The pain was reminiscent of the way he had felt post Crucio Curse the few times he had been hit.

The cool cloth that Minerva was pressing to his forehead did nothing to alleviate the pain – in fact, the pressing seemed to be exacerbating it - but he appreciated the gesture. Despite the agony of every movement, Albus reached up and pulled her hand down to his lips.

"_That_ is so_ not_ going to happen. Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered, but _no_!"

The voice that had responded was _not_ Minerva's. Opening his eyes, Albus was taken aback to find not Minerva's hand, but Kettleburn's, tending him.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes at last!"

But where was Minerva? If he was sick or injured surely she would be by his side.

Pieces of memories of the night before started to come back to him. He had a meeting scheduled with Millicent Bagnold. He went looking for Minerva to tell her, but he couldn't find her. He could remember waiting in her rooms for her to return. She had been out shopping of all things. He would have to remember to get to the things being delivered today before she did. He recalled quarreling with her. And then…and then…and then…he concentrated on trying to remember, but he couldn't.

Admittedly, he had said some fairly despicable things to her, but surely Minerva wouldn't have hexed him…at least not this badly?

He asked Kettleburn. "What happened?"

"You were attacked by Death Eaters. They got you on your way to the Ministry – at least, that's how I think it happened. Alastor Moody was here looking for you because you never made it to a meeting with the Minister there, but Poppy told him you were headed out to a very important meeting when you brought Minerva to the Hospital Wing. You must have managed to apparate back to Hogwarts just before losing consciousness because Filch and I found you at the edge of the Forest."

Kettleburn's words did nothing to bring back his memory. "I brought Minerva to the Hospital Wing?"

Kettleburn nodded. "Kudos, by the way, for the way you just dumped her and ran."

Albus's own considerable pain and discomfort were instantly forgotten. "Why did I bring her to the Hospital Wing? Is she all right?"

Kettleburn shrugged noncommittally. "I'm sure she's fine."

Albus could tell by the way the other man wouldn't meet his eyes that there was something he wasn't being told. "Is something wrong with the baby?"

If he knew, Kettleburn was evading answering. "I've been in here waiting to see if you would _ever_ wake up and trying to keep anyone else from finding out that you were injured."

Albus tried to rise. Before Kettleburn could make much of an effort to stop him, the Care of Magical Creatures professor found himself sprawled out on the floor. Were the situation not what it were, Albus might have found some satisfaction in having finally done to Kettleburn what he had been fantasizing about doing for months now.

Albus rushed through the infirmary doors. He looked around, but Minerva was nowhere to be seen. Had she been sent to St. Mungo's? Seeing Poppy, he asked.

"Where is Minerva?"

Busy fluffing the pillow of an empty bed, Poppy took far too long to reply. "There wasn't much more that I could do for her. With the crowd I can expect from today's Quidditch game, I thought she would be more comfortable in the privacy of her own rooms so I discharged her last night. I'm monitoring her from here."

Poppy pointed to a clock-like device labeled with Minerva's name. It listed various symptoms ranging from 'faking' to 'mild cough' to 'mostly dead' to 'all dead'.

The Quidditch match wasn't until Sunday, but that wasn't the important part of what Poppy had just said. If Poppy had discharged Minerva the very night it had happened, that had to mean it wasn't too serious – didn't it? Or was it the opposite – was there nothing that could be done for the baby? The hand of Minerva's clock was currently teetering back and forth between 'heartbroken' and 'insomnia'. He noticed there was only the one clock.

"So she's all right? And the baby? She didn't…she didn't lose the baby?"

Poppy turned from her fluffing to glare at him. "Suddenly you care?"

He could keep the anguish from his voice no longer. "What happened with my –" he only just barely managed to restrain himself, "-Nerva's little girl?"

Poppy snorted. Merlin help him, she sounded amused. "No little girl for Minerva."

Utterly devastated, Albus couldn't even respond. He staggered out.

On the way to Minerva's rooms, he tried to think of what he could possibly say to her, but no words would come to him - his grief was too fresh. More than ever, he now regretted his words to her the day before. To think that the last words he had expressed about their daughter were a denial of wanting her. He had so much to make amends for. Right now, all he could think to do was to be with Minerva, to hold her, to grieve with her.

Reaching her rooms, he found that was not to be. She was in her animagus form, sunning herself in the light of a window bewitched into an interior wall of the castle. As he entered and approached, she transfigured back to her human form. With half the room still between them, she put up a hand to stop his approach.

Her eyes were swollen as if she had been crying, but they looked dull. They lacked the shine that would have made the tears recent. Her voice was flat, seemingly entirely devoid of emotion, as without preamble, she asked him. "What was the meeting about? What was so important that you had to leave?"

"It was…I…" Albus tried to remember. Kettleburn had said that Albus had 'dumped' Minerva at the Hospital Wing and left. He couldn't remember doing it – couldn't even conceive of doing it – but from Minerva's words and demeanor, it appeared to be true. He tried to remember what could possibly possess him to do such a thing. True, he had been angry with her and true they had exchanged heated words, but he knew – _he knew_ – that no amount of anger could ever have caused him to abandon her in those circumstances. There had to have been some other reason for his leaving. He couldn't think of any cause great enough to have pulled him from her side, but there _had _to have been another reason for his leaving. It killed him inside, but perhaps as a result of his injuries or some memory charm that he had been hit with the day before, he couldn't remember. "…I don't remember."

"Alastor was by to see you yesterday. When you wouldn't see him, he came to me. I asked _him_ what the meeting was about. He said it was a meeting to coordinate schedules to schedule more meetings."

She paused as if to give him time to offer an explanation or refute the allegation

Albus winced. He wished that he could offer some justification – that that hadn't been the real purpose of the meeting, merely a ruse, or that there had been another meeting – one that Alastor wasn't aware of or wasn't at liberty to discuss - but he had nothing to offer. That had been the purpose of the meeting that he had been_ planning_ to attend yesterday afternoon. He just couldn't remember, couldn't even begin to believe – as he had been told – that he had actually still left to try to attend once Minerva took ill. The very idea that he had left Minerva in the Hospital Wing to miscarry their child alone, it was fantastic, but that had been the purpose of the meeting.

When he hadn't a response, she continued. Her voice was monotone and her words seemed stilted - almost to the point of being rehearsed. It was as though she had been thinking about them a great long time. "I didn't talk to you about my plan beforehand not because I knew you would never consent – though I did know that – but because if I had you would have been aware of the possibility and precluded me from attempting it. I thought that your objection to having a child was based on fear for our safety. When you asked me to marry you with the condition that I agree to go into hiding, I thought that seemed clear. I thought that once you saw that there was a way that we could have a child without my going into hiding and with no one even suspecting that you were the father, I thought that your objections would fade. I knew you would be angry at first –and rightfully so- but I thought you would come round to the idea soon enough.

"I realize now that I misunderstood. You truly didn't want a child."

It cut him to hear her say the words. To think that she really believed that he hadn't wanted the baby that they had just lost. Albus tried to interrupt, but she wouldn't have it. "Minerva, no! I did want this baby. I –"

As he made her stray from her clearly prepared speech, gone was the evenness from her tone. "-_Don't speak! You have nothing to say that I want to hear! Your actions have made your feelings perfectly clear! Three days! Three days without a visit, or a letter, not even an inquiry through the elves about our condition! Three days of you locked away in your rooms."_

"Three days?" Albus didn't understand. Perhaps it was the lingering pain clouding his mind, making his thought processes too slow, but he didn't follow. What did she mean three days?

He had never before heard such venom in her voice. "I release you from any claim that I, or _my_ son, ever had on you. You need not worry about us burdening you with our presence any longer. As soon as Poppy clears me to travel, I will be leaving."

Minerva's repetition of 'three days' still wasn't clear to him, but he now understood how Poppy could laugh while claiming 'no little girl for Minerva.'

Minerva's anger – however righteous – momentarily ceased registering with him. He had to be certain. "The baby is all right? You didn't miscarry?"

_"Don't pretend to care!_ If you really cared, it wouldn't have taken you three days to find out. You would have been there with me. Alastor said you didn't even show to the meeting. Well you needn't worry anymore about me 'trapping' you into marriage or anything else."

"Three days?" Albus repeated. Minerva's insistence on three days intruded upon his euphoria at finding out that there still was to be a baby.

It hadn't been three days. It couldn't have been. He hadn't been unconscious three days. Had he?

Minerva's agitation had attracted the attention of Poppy all the way from the Hospital Wing. She came bursting into the room. "What is going on here?"

Seeing her, Minerva repeated her earlier threat. "I'll be leaving – tonight if Poppy clears me!"

"Minerva, no! You can't leave. Please-"

"-Albus, you have already made your feelings perfectly clear. Get out. I don't ever wish to set eyes on you again!"

He had to explain it to her. He needed to make her understand. He just wasn't sure what it was that he had to explain. "Minerva, you have to listen-"

"**I said get out!**"

"Minerva-" It didn't matter. He was not to get the chance.

Poppy herded him out into the hall. "What do you think you are doing?! You cannot be upsetting her like that. Not in her condition!"

This was all wrong. Just when he thought the situation could get no worse - Albus had just thought their baby lost. Now to discover the baby was fine, but he wouldn't be for long if Minerva were to be so rash as to leave. Voldemort was out there waiting for her to take as much as a step out of Hogwarts. Visions of another night like the one last summer flashed through his mind. Only this time, lost were two people he loved, not one. Alice had had it all wrong. Having a child didn't give you someone else to cling to in mourning – it gave you another someone to mourn.

Albus was near panic. "Poppy, you cannot allow her to leave. It isn't safe for her out there!"

Poppy nodded. "I know, that kneazle could still be out there!"

"Kneaz - Poppy, you have to make her stay!"

Thankfully, Poppy agreed. "I have every intention of personally delivering that baby right here at Hogwarts."


	30. Chapter 30

A/N Thanks again M.

Apologies in advance for the cliffy, but I just can't help myself. The beta checked copy of the next chapter is sitting in my inbox so the next update shouldn't be too long.

"""""""""""""""

Looking up from the parchment she was grading, Minerva was surprised to find the castle's caretaker to be the one standing in her doorway causing the hesitant knocking.

Shifting the coverlet to better cover herself, she inquired of him with a single word. "Argus?"

His knocking wasn't the only thing hesitant about him. He was quiet so long that Minerva was trying to decide if she found the situation irritating or amusing. When Filch finally plunged ahead with what he had to say, she wished more than anything to go back to that silence.

"There is something that I need to tell you. I know you'll think differently of me after what I have to say, but I feel that you have a right to know. Just try not to think too poorly of me after I'm done."

Minerva cringed. Poppy had been right about Filch. She spoke quickly to keep him from continuing. "Please don't say it. I think I'd rather not think differently of you."

Realizing how awful that sounded, Minerva tried again. "So many things have happened over the past few months, things that have made me think very differently of certain people. I think for now that I would prefer to just continue thinking about you as I already think about you."

She paused a moment before asking, "Would that be all right with you?"

Argus took a moment to consider, but then he nodded. Minerva was slightly surprised to see he seemed almost relieved at getting out of her rooms without having to make his confession.

""""""""""""""""

Albus didn't know what to do. He had tried the past few days to get back in to see Minerva, but Poppy had refused him entrance - no doubt on Minerva's orders. He had finally resolved to write her a letter, but what was there for him to say? All he had to offer was that he had been attacked by Death Eaters, but the attack itself was incidental. He could tell her that he hadn't returned sooner because he had been unconscious for three days, but that had nothing to do with the real problem - that he had left in the first place. He knew he had been angry with Minerva over her deception, but he hadn't realized just how angry he was – he couldn't fathom the idea that he had actually left Minerva alone in the Hospital Wing struggling for their child's life, but he had.

Albus didn't know what to do about the situation with Minerva…so he headed off to deal with the situation with Filch.

Argus had owled requesting a meeting. He claimed to have something 'incredibly important' to discuss with Albus. Wondering why the other man had sent an owl instead of just coming to his office in person, but willing to play along, Albus had owled back inviting Argus to his office. Argus had refused. He wrote back practically demanding Albus come to the Staff room.

He had briefly pondered insisting Argus meet him in his office. Albus had taken to avoiding the Staff room as much as was feasible. Recent events had not left him in high regard amongst many of his staff. Even the castle's elves who were bound to him by a magic older and more powerful than Albus himself had turned against him as best they could; his evening 'hot' cocoa was now delivered lukewarm. He had thought about insisting, but he knew that he deserved whatever malevolence his staff might have to offer.

Entering, Albus was surprised to see so many people milling around. True, classes were out for the day, but he would have hoped that people would have better places to be. But no, it appeared that congregating in the Staff room to give him angry glares was all of the fulfillment that some people needed.

Wanting to get this assignation over with as quickly as possible, he made his way straight towards the castle's caretaker. "Argus, what is it you wished to see me about?"

Filch drew himself up to his full height – which still only put him at the height of Albus's shoulders - before solemnly stating, "This is my letter of resignation."

Albus had been expecting Filch's 'incredibly important' something to discuss to be yet another request to ban Fizzing Whizbees or the playing of Exploding Snaps or further talk of the kneazle roaming the castle. Argus's response caught him off guard. "Why…"

More to have something to do than anything, Albus looked down at the sheaf of parchments that Argus had just handed him – a sheaf that seemed far too bulky to be a simple letter of resignation. "Why did you sign Kettleburn's name on your letter of resignation?"

"Oh!" Argus took the papers and shuffled them before thrusting them back at Albus. "He was the last to sign."

"The last?" Flipping through the pages Albus found a letter from every member of his staff. It wasn't signed, but Argus had even filled one out for Binns. "You're all resigning?"

"If you insist on continuing to hound that poor woman for her resignation, then yes, you'll have to take all of ours as well! And good luck trying to replace the entire staff mid-year!"

Minerva would no doubt be touched by this outpouring of support. If only Albus could get close enough to tell her. While it struck Albus as odd that Argus of all people would decide to organize such a protest, he had other, more pressing things on his mind. As for his earlier idea – the one that involved getting Minerva to agree to resign and go into hiding - that was currently the furthest thing from his mind. Right now he was concerned with getting her to agree to speak with him again or at the very least to agree to remain at Hogwarts.

"I assure you, I have no more desire for Minerva to leave than you do."

Argus squinted at him. "Well you sure have a funny way of showing it."

Albus hadn't an answer for that – not that he would have gotten the chance.

Poppy burst into the room, gushing. "That had to be the most beautiful, the most romantic thing that I have _ever_ seen!"

Poppy was too excited to wait for him, or anyone else in the room, to ask what it was that she was going on about. She came right out with it. "Alastor Moody just asked Minerva to marry him!"


	31. Chapter 31

_Poppy was determined to make sure that there would not be another scene like the last one between the Headmaster and her patient. While Poppy hadn't yet been able to coax out of Minerva what it was exactly that the Headmaster had said to her, Poppy did know that whatever it was had left Minerva inconsolable. The poor thing had continued crying for hours after his departure. That sort of stress was good for neither Minerva nor the little beastie growing in side her._

_To prevent a reappearance by that certain unwanted, but persistent would be visitor, and the better to monitor her two most important patients – and truth be told only patients - Poppy had all but taken up residence in Minerva's sitting room._

_As such, she was in a perfect position to listen in on what ordinarily should have been a very private moment._

_Entering the room, Alastor didn't waste any time. Approaching Minerva, he removed a small jewel box from his pocket. Opening it and getting on one knee, he held it out to her. "This ring belonged to my mother and my father's mother before her. I would be honored if you would consent to wearing it."_

_Giving a gasp, Minerva looked aghast. "Alastor – no!"_

_Still on one knee, he stopped her. "Minerva, hear me out. You know that I care about you. I have for some time. This has been such an incredibly difficult year for you. So many horrible things have happened. I can't pretend to know, or even to be able to imagine, what its been like for you, but I can't stand to keep seeing you go through it all alone. I want to be there for you. I want to help you get through this. A child needs a father. I want to help you care for and raise this child. If you will allow me the chance, I promise I will love this baby as if it were my own."_

_Poppy had already seen a tear come from Minerva's eyes, but the beauty of the man's words was bringing one to hers as well._

_"I know that right now you don't feel for me what I feel for you and I don't mind. If you married me, I would never pressure you to…to – well, to anything, but I wonder if maybe, in time, when you're ready, those kind of feelings might begin to develop. And if they did, maybe we could add a few more children to our family. And if those kind of feelings should never begin, then I would be content with just the companionship of you and the child we would already have."_

_The tears had begun flowing more freely for both women. Alastor reached into another pocket to retrieve a handkerchief. Minerva took it gratefully, unlike the ring still in his outstretched hand, which remained untouched._

_She sounded incredibly regretful. "Alastor, I could never hope to find a more wonderful or caring man than you. If only my baby's father was half the man that you are –" Understandably, at this point Minerva broke off. "Alastor, I wish that I could say yes, but I cannot marry you."_

_Alastor nodded and stood - not that Minerva, who had turned to face the wall as she continued crying, noticed._

"_If you should change your mind or if you need anything - if the newspapers are bothering you, or the Ministry or the school's governors are, or if you need help fixing your cottage back up - if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know and I'll take care of it."_

_He put the ring back into his cloak pocket before quietly departing._

Listening to Poppy tell the story, Albus's heart was in his throat. "But she said no. You said that she said no."

Poppy smiled knowingly. "She said no then, but…"

_Poppy's heart broke watching the auror head out the door. Seeing that Minerva was still facing in the other direction, still crying, Poppy slipped out after him._

_"Alastor, wait!"_

_The hope in the auror's eyes as he turned again tugged at her heart. "Did Minerva send you? Did she change her mind?"_

_"No," Poppy admitted. "But the things you said, they were so beautiful. I'd like to help you try to change her mind."_

Poppy smirked while declaring, "Alastor wants to marry her and I'm going to help him!"

Kettleburn made a face. "Has anyone told Alastor about the baby's… father?"

Poppy crossed her arms. "He knows!"

Kettleburn looked positively ill. "And that what, excites him?"

"He's being noble!" Poppy snapped. "Which is far more than I can say for any of you!"

Kettleburn snorted at Poppy. "What, you want one of us to marry her?"

Poppy was growing positively cross. "It would be the honorable thing to do!"

Seeing honor had no draw for Kettleburn, Poppy tried another tack. "You know…pregnant women have a greatly increased sex drive."

Kettleburn wasn't biting. "Fat girls don't do it for me."

"On behalf of all the fat girls," Sprout declared, "Thank Merlin!"

When Kettleburn held up his newspaper, effectively ending his part of the conversation, Poppy turned her gaze on the others in the room. "And what's your excuse, Filius?"

Filius's gaze darted around the room at the other assembled ladies, as if one of them would come to his rescue and prevent him from having to answer. Finally giving up that hope, he slouched into his seat and mumbled into his teacup. "I'm allergic to cats."

While Poppy glared at the diminutive Charms professor, Albus spoke quietly. "I would marry her."

Poppy quickly dismissed that idea. "Don't be ridiculous, Albus. I wasn't referring to you. You're what, eighty years her senior? As adolescent as you can behave at times, I think Minerva would appreciate someone a bit closer to her own age. Someone a bit more spry to play games and do things with the child. Besides, Alastor is in love with her."

Not listening to Poppy's words, Albus left the room.

Without Poppy playing sentinel, Albus was finally able to get an audience with Minerva. The few days that had passed since he saw her last seemed to have subdued her anger. Now she just seemed sad. At least, that was the impression he received once she changed out of her animagus form.

Perhaps because he didn't quite know how to say what he really wanted to say, the first thing out of his mouth was not the apology that he had been intending to deliver.

"Why were you in your animagus form?" Both times he had managed to get in to see her, she had been in her animagus form.

Minerva looked startled by the question. Perhaps because it caught her off guard, she answered rather than just send him from the room. "Poppy recommended it. She thought it best for the baby."

The words were out before he thought them through. "Poppy thinks the baby's half-kneazle. You know better."

He could tell by the rapid changes in her expression, from sad to embarrassed and then to angry, that her emotional state of late had not lent itself to the most rational of thinking.

Realizing that pointing out the flaw in her reasoning was not the best way to start off his apology, Albus quickly changed the topic. "Thank you for not saying yes to Moody."

Back to that weary sadness. "It had nothing to do with you, Albus. Alastor is a good, decent man. Not for all the galleons in Gringotts would I involve him in this debacle that I have created."

"Minerva, I'm-"

She didn't even bother to look in his direction as she interrupted him. "Go away."

"Minerva –"

"Just leave. You're very good at that."

Albus accepted the rebuke. "Minerva, there are so many things that I want, that I need to say to you – I don't know where to start."

Finally looking at him, she cut him off. "Then don't. Are you going to leave or do I?"

He wanted to stay – to explain and defend himself for his earlier actions, but what was there for him to say? And Albus knew that if she were to leave, it would be more than just the room.

"""""""""""""""""""

A/N Hopefully the use of _italics_ in the chapter was helpful rather than confusing. The regular text happened in the present, while the events in _italics_ occurred moments earlier in Minerva's rooms.

Thanks again Maria for beta checking this.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated.


	32. Chapter 32

A/N Thanks again Maria for making the time to beta this.

''''''''''''''

Kettleburn sighed as Filius pondered the matter aloud for the third time that week. "I'm thinking six. Six is a fine number, don't you think?"

When Kettleburn just grunted, Filius persisted, "_Don't you think?"_

"Six is a number, I'll give you that much, but that's all I'll give you."

Filius was getting a bit testy. "So how many do you think there will be?"

"Oh, that's a tough call. Hmm…how about…." Kettleburn pretended to be considering the question for a minute before sniping, "...one! Like I've already told you a dozen times!"

Filius's voice was getting shrill. "There cannot be just one! It's just not possible!"

Seeing an opportunity, Kettleburn took it. "Would care to make a wager on it? Say fifty galleons?"

As soon as Filius agreed, Kettleburn demanded the money. "Poppy has already told you, Minerva is only having one baby so pay up."

Filius pish poshed him. "What does _she_ know?"

"A good deal more than you do!" Poppy snapped as she entered the Staff Room. "Now for the last time, Filius, Minerva is having one, and only one, baby. Not a dozen, not half a dozen, not even two babies, she is having just one baby!"

Kettleburn nodded. "Listen to the lady! Now where are my fifty galleons?"

Filius balked. "A kneazle producing a litter of just one – never in my lifetime! I'll pay when I see it with my own eyes!"

Eager to change the subject, Hooch changed the subject. "So Poppy, whatever happened to that plan you and Alastor were working on? The one to get Minerva to agree to marry him? If the plan was to get it done before the baby comes, I think you're running short on time."

"Oh, well…you know…" Poppy blushed. "Alastor and I were getting together quite regularly to plot and plan and…we sort of got to know each other and…" Poppy held up her hand.

The women in the room, Poppy included, all began to squeal, but Poppy quickly hushed them. "Don't say anything to Minerva. Poor dear, it's the last thing she needs to hear right now."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Months had passed and Minerva was still here – she hadn't left Hogwarts. Albus knew that surely that meant something. Surely, if she despised him so completely that there was no hope of reconciliation, she would have left by now. True, in the beginning Poppy had helped to keep her there - never clearing her to leave - but after a few weeks, when Poppy had allowed Minerva to return to a full teaching schedule, surely then Minerva realized it was merely stalling on Poppy's part.

Albus knew he shouldn't be upsetting Minerva – it wasn't good for her or the baby – and every time he tried to approach her, she got upset. So he had stopped trying to approach her directly.

He had eventually tried sending her a letter. Within minutes, it had been returned, unopened, and accompanied by Minerva's letter of resignation. Still, she hadn't actually left.

He just didn't know anymore what it was that he was supposed to do.

He rather got the idea that Minerva was waiting for him to make some great and grand gesture. Something that would prove once and for all how devoted he was to her and their child to be and how deeply remorseful he was for the pain he had caused her. But he wasn't certain. What if that wasn't the case? What if she was only barely tolerating the current situation and further attempts by him to make amends only drove her to follow through on her threats of leaving? And anyway, he hadn't any ideas of what great and grand gesture to make.

At the moment, the most important thing was ensuring that Minerva stayed at the castle where she was protected. To that end, he had considered himself resigning. The problem with that was that given current circumstances and tempers, he could no longer reasonably presume that Minerva would be named as his successor. He could however reasonably expect his replacement to replace Minerva. Even if he could be sure that Minerva would be the one appointed, he had other entirely selfish reasons for not doing it. Minerva knew how much he loved Hogwarts. While offering to leave so that Minerva would remain could be the gesture to show her how much he cared for her and their child, what if she accepted? What if in resigning he lost his only chance for contact with Minerva and the baby?

So he did nothing. Actually, to say he did nothing was perhaps not entirely accurate. He did what little things he could.

He did all that he could to ensure that all of his responsibilities to the school were taken care of to prevent any extra work from falling on Minerva. When he could do it without being too flagrant, he even took on tasks that ordinarily would have fallen under her dominion. Knowing what their first order of business would be, he had repeatedly postponed or canceled all meetings of the school's Board of Governors since the news of Minerva's condition had gotten out. Of course, in addition to it being in Minerva's best interests, it made one less thing for him to contend with. Between the ordinary school business and all his Order and Ministry responsibilities, many a night he never made it to his bed. As a result, he found himself perpetually exhausted. Perhaps if that had not been the case, perhaps if he wasn't busy playing an unending game of catch up, perhaps if he actually had the time to get his faculties about him, he would have found a way out of the situation months ago.

But he hadn't.

They were at something of a standstill.

In respect of her wishes, Albus avoided subjecting her to his unwanted presence as much as was practical. For that reason, when he entered the Staff Room and found her reclined on one of the couches, he immediately began to retreat. However, realizing she was not merely resting, but asleep, he hesitated. Unable to restrain himself, he took a seat across from her.

Flitwick and Hooch had had their heads together, speaking in hushed tones, but stopped as he entered. When it became clear that Albus wasn't planning to leave, the two made a show of packing up their belongings to go. Hooch nudged the nearby Sprout, no doubt wanting her to join in their little protest, but she was too absorbed in her book to notice. The pair glared at him as they passed. Albus found their behavior mildly surprising. Relations between him and the rest of his staff had improved over the past few months – or so he had thought. Not that he really cared. His relationship with the Charms Professor or the Flight Instructor was not the one he was really concerned with repairing.

Gazing at Minerva, he wondered had it really come to this? Spying on her in her sleep? It had literally been months since he had been this close to her. The room otherwise deserted, Albus took advantage of the opportunity and stared shamelessly. She looked tired, even in her sleep. Given her new size, the couch hardly seemed the most comfortable of places to sleep. Albus didn't need Poppy to tell him that it wouldn't be much longer.

"What time is it?" Her attention buried in the book before her, Sprout didn't seem to realize that they were the only ones in the room.

"Five past the hour."

"Dear me!" Sprout hastily put a more demure gardening book jacket on her trash romance novel before stashing it in her bag. Already out the door, she stuck her head back in with an afterthought. "Wake her! She's going to be late!"

Pomona was wrong. Albus knew Minerva's schedule by heart. Her current free period ended at the half hour.

Even as that time drew closer, Albus decided against waking her. If Minerva was tired enough to be taking a nap mid-day - and in the Staff room no less - he would greatly prefer to allow her to continue sleeping until she awoke of her own volition. He might be a little rusty from years of disuse, but he thought her NEWT class could make due with him for the day.

He didn't doubt that Minerva would be angry when she awoke and discovered him in her classroom, but her being angry with him was nothing new. At least this way, she would be angry at him and a little less tired.

Before leaving, despite the warmth of the soon to be summer weather, he conjured a blanket. Arranging it over her, he couldn't resist just once stroking her cheek.

Once at Minerva's classroom, Albus was startled to see Filius already there. "What are you doing here?"

"When Minerva got the letter this morning, she asked me if I would cover this period. She didn't want to cancel class this close to the NEWTs."

What letter? Was he missing something – as usual?

He got his answer as his usually jovial Charms professor snarled at him. "What are _you_ doing here? Don't tell me, you've gotten the Board of Governors to do your dirty work for you and now you aren't even going to attend?!"

Albus frowned. Apparently the Board of Governors had decided to circumvent him. "Where are they meeting?"

Now it was Filius's turn to look confused. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Where?" Albus insisted.

"The library."

Already out the door and halfway down the corridor, Albus heard Filius call out. "But the meeting would have already started by now!"

Reaching the library, Albus found passage into it impeded. The door was no longer there. A young man Albus had never met before was standing beside where it used to be.

Before Albus could even ask, the clerk answered. "You'll have to turn over your wand if you want to find the door to enter."

"I'll do no such thing!" The very idea of going wandless anywhere these days was ludicrous. Why, even while using the facilities, Albus kept one hand on his wand and one hand one his…other wand.

The young man shrugged. "Suit yourself, but you won't be getting in the room as long as you have it."

Albus countered, "This is my school!"

The young man didn't seem impressed. "Then you probably already know that you're late. The meeting started twenty minutes ago."

"I'm not late! I wasn't notified!" Albus knew perfectly well why he hadn't been informed, but that did nothing to quell his growing outrage. "Now stand aside or you will _get_ my wand!_"_

Albus saw fright in the young man's eyes, but apparently not enough. "I was given very explicit instructions. I am not to let you pass with a wand."

This was ridiculous. This was his school. Visible or not, he could find the door. He was feeling along the wall where the door should have been when he saw Minerva coming down the corridor looking disheveled, to say the least. Albus winced, realizing his first stop should have been to the Staff Room to make certain Minerva was awake. She was trying with her hands to smooth out the wrinkles in her robes, but she didn't seem to be aware of the state of her hair. The bun she customarily wore was lopsided. More noticeable was the side of her face - it still retained the imprint of the upholstery she had been sleeping on.

She apparently had no difficulties finding the door. She went through without any hesitation.

Albus wasn't sure; Minerva's deliberate ignoring of him as she passed him, was that from all that had happened before or did she, like Filius, think he had something to do with this?

Albus pointed out the obvious. "You didn't take her wand."

The clerk shrugged. "The Board of Governors isn't concerned that _she_ will attack them if she doesn't like what they have to say."

A miscalculation if ever there was one. If they thought that he had a temper, wait until they were the object of hers!

After trying and failing to pass through the very spot that Minerva had just gone through, he gave up arguing. As he released his wand, the door appeared.

Inside at last, Albus saw that one of the Governors, Stansworthy, had wasted no time before starting right in on Minerva. "How nice of you to_ finally_ join us, Professor McGonagall. If your schedule is so full that you can't manage to be on time for such an important meeting, I'm sure we can arrange to lessen_ considerably_ the school's burden on your time."

The library's usual furnishings had been temporarily banished, replaced by a long table. There were only enough seats to accommodate the Board - leaving Albus and Minerva to stand. The omission seemed deliberate.

While the sight of Minerva's very obvious condition produced hard glares from the rest of the Board members, one, Figg, rose and offered Minerva his seat. "Please sit."

Minerva coolly declined. "I prefer to stand."

Stansworthy seemed greatly put off by Figg's attempts at chivalry. Avoiding eye contact, but pointing straight at Minerva, or rather her protruding abdomen, he went on. "It's high time we discussed this _problem_. To begin with, has anyone here _not_ seen today's Prophet?"

Minerva stepped forward to take the copy Stansworthy was waving around. "I haven't. The owl that delivers my copy appears to have gone astray…again."

Albus cringed. It wasn't by chance that Minerva hadn't seen the day's edition. When Albus had received his copy that morning, he had immediately turned – as he always did - to see the latest escapades of Marvin the Mad Muggle. The comic he had seen running along side it had caused him to immediately summon and destroy all copies of the Prophet in the vicinity of the school.

The cartoon depicted two men having a discussion. The first man commented, "I hear that McGonagall shags like a minx."

The second man corrected the first. "You misheard – she shagged a minx."

After handing over his copy and allowing her a moment to absorb the comic, Stansworthy began prodding her. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Minerva still answered with that same composed tone – as if she wasn't aware her continued employment was up for discussion. "I can assure you; I have never 'shagged' a minx and as for what I 'shag' like, live in wonder for you will never know."

A few titters of laughter could be heard, but Stansworthy looked far from amused. He addressed his next words directly to the other Governors. "What kind of message are we sending to our daughters by having her around? I call for an immediate vote on her dismissal."

It only took one to open the floodgates. Other board members began to agree. "The children don't need to be exposed to this _sort_ of thing."

"Here, here! It's absolutely shameful!"

Watching Minerva fold her arms before the extreme protrusion of her belly as if trying to shield the child within from the cruel looks and comments, it was all Albus could do to stop himself from proclaiming the truth to the Governors. He did try to speak up to defend her and her position, but he was quickly drowned out by the others.

Lacking his wand, he resorted to a muggle means to get their attention.

While the shrill sound of his whistling got the others to lapse into silence, Stansworthy was not impressed. "Dumbledore, if the Board had any interest in hearing from you, you would have been informed of this meeting."

Trying not to take the remark to heart, Albus continued. "It may concern the Governors to know that if Professor McGonagall is dismissed, I too will be leaving."

Stansworthy did not look at all put off by the prospect of getting rid of them both. "While I am sure in your mind, Albus, that may seem an impressive threat, others present are aware that for the past few years you have hardly been what I would call 'here' anyway. Your other 'endeavors' have been keeping you too occupied to properly care for your responsibilities to Hogwarts. Maybe if your focus had been here, where it should have been, we wouldn't be finding ourselves in the situation we are now."

Truer words, Albus reflected, he had never heard spoken by Stansworthy.

"There are those amongst us that believe that in addition to Professor McGonagall's removal, a change of stewardship would go far towards repairing the damage this scandal has caused to the school's reputation."

Albus couldn't hide his surprise at this reaction and it didn't go unnoticed. Another Governor, one who had always been a supporter of Albus's, chided him. "Really Albus! After all these years, did you really think that just by copying it over into your own hand writing we wouldn't notice it wasn't your own work you were turning in to us?"

Feeling like a chastised first year, Albus suddenly realized it wasn't only Minerva's position in jeopardy. Perhaps it shouldn't have been, but the turn of events was unexpected. Albus didn't know what to say. He shrugged. "Be that as it may, I stand by my words and I stand by my professor. Dismiss Professor McGonagall and I too -"

Minerva spoke over him. _"That_ won't be necessary."

When Minerva turned to address the Board, Albus thought that he and the Governors were about to see the infamous McGonagall temper in action, but he was wrong. The past few months had really taken a toll on her. "The Board can have my resignation. Shall I stay on until the Board locates a replacement or leave immediately?"

Her lack of fight caught both Albus and Stansworthy by surprise. Neither said anything for a moment. It was Figg who chimed in with his opinion. "Come now people, I hardly think any of this is necessary. Really, Stansworthy, what are you hoping to accomplish by any of this? If you wanted to avoid exposing the students to this, I must say it's a little late for that now. You really should have removed her from her post months ago before -" Figg interrupted himself to apologize to Minerva "– excuse the bluntness, madam – before she got to roughly the size of a hippogriff."

Albus knew his stalling to be the cause of Stansworthy's look of fury at Figg's words. "_I_ wanted her removed as soon we learned about her condition – _from the newspapers_ I might add. No one had the decency to inform us directly. We had to read about it in the papers like everyone else! And she would have been gone long ago, but every time I tried to hold a meeting to discuss the matter, _he_ canceled it!" Stansworthy was in such a rage, he couldn't even bring himself to say Dumbledore's name.

Figg dismissed him. "Yet here we are so you seem to have found a way around Dumbledore."

Becoming serious again, Figg continued. "Everyone already knows the details of what happened, so if you were to remove her from her post now, exactly what message would you be sending to our daughters? And it's not as if the situation is permanent. I dare say within the month the 'problem' - as you so_ eloquently_ put it - will have corrected itself."

"By supporting –" Stansworthy wasn't giving up. He didn't bother looking, but merely gestured in Minerva's direction. "It gives the impression that we encourage this _sort_ of behavior. For young ladies to go out and … and -"

Figg interrupted. "-Go out and what? Be the victim of a crime? Yes, I agree, we don't want to encourage that."

Albus was grateful for the support – however unexpected the source. The inability of Stansworthy and Figg to ever agree on a topic had made many a meeting of the school's Board of Governors run interminable, but it seemed that for once it might work to someone's favor. Minerva had often in private referred to the pair as a 'blowhard' and a 'blowharder.' Albus wondered what she made of Figg's defense of her. He glanced her way, but her expression was unfathomable.

Stansworthy tried again. "We need to be seen as discouraging the kind of conduct that leads to situations like these."

Figg shrugged. "Well, kneazles are already banned from the area. Shall we put a ban on animagus training as well?"

Stansworthy was growing quite furious. "You know perfectly well that that isn't what this is about!"

Figg held up his hands in a gesture of submission. "If you would like to put the matter to a vote that is well within your rights. But I warn you, you are wasting your time. The Governors' decision to dismiss her must be unanimous."

Figg's defense of Minerva providing a clear indication of which way his vote would go, there was nothing left to say. Stansworthy stormed out.

As the other Governors filed out more slowly, Figg stayed behind.

Albus hung back. After the stunt Alastor had tried to pull, Albus had an uneasy feeling about anyone of the male persuasion who was unexpectedly or exceptionally kind to Minerva.

Figg again tried to get her to be seated. Minerva too seemed somewhat suspicious of the man she had so often referred to as the 'blowharder'. While she did finally defer to his request to be seated, she offered no words of gratitude for his championing of her. Of course, that might also have been because at this point in her pregnancy sitting down had become as much of a production as getting back up.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that. It would be such a shame to allow such a brief period of unpleasantness to end an otherwise exceptional career. You have educated and helped to shape the character of a generation of students that have passed through these halls. I hope to see you remain with us for a few more generations. Thankfully, this will all be over with soon and you can go on with your life just as if it never happened."

After a pause not nearly long enough to disguise the true purpose of this little tete a tete, Figg tried to casually change the topic. "You know my late brother and his wife, they never had children because of my sister-in-law's … disability. She loves cats though. Has a house full of them. Tell me, have you already found a home to place …" He inclined his head towards Minerva's bulge. "It would be quite happy, I'm sure, surrounded by its own kind."

Minerva had remained stoic through all of the earlier discussion, but this kindly phrased request was too much. Her lip began to quiver. "I'm keeping the baby."

Figg wore an expression of pity. "Come now, why would you want to do that? What an awful reminder to have around. Why torture yourself like that?"

She now seemed as if she might begin to cry, but Minerva refused to relent. "I'm not giving away my baby."

Figg looked as though that idea had never occurred to him. "Surely you don't intend to keep _it_ here at Hogwarts?"

When Minerva didn't say anything more, Figg took her silence as an affirmation.

"Oh. Oh!" Figg's expression began to change. "Well that changes things considerably. If that's the case, you will need to go."

Albus stepped in to try to put an end to the matter. "If the Governors dismiss Professor McGonagall, I won't be the only one resigning in protest. The whole staff will be. If you would care to see them, I already have signed letters of resignation from all of them in my office."

Albus repeated the words Filch had once said to him. "And good luck trying to replace the entire staff."

Figg pursed his lips as he considered the matter. Unable to come to a satisfactory resolution, he left - but not before admonishing Albus. "Dumbledore, you need to fix this. Talk some sense into her. She can't really mean to keep it – and certainly not here at Hogwarts!"

Alone again with her, Albus discovered that try as she might, Minerva hadn't been able to contain all of her tears.

Hadn't he warned her, if her deception worked, what people's reaction would be? How very cruel they could be? But now was probably not the time to be bringing that up. Instead, he apologized. "Minerva, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Figg and Stansworthy … and about everything. Minerva, tell me what to do. Tell me what you want. Don't even think about the Board or -"

Brushing aside her tears, Minerva stood. "It doesn't matter. I want to leave. I want to go back to my cottage."

Besides not being what he wanted, that just wasn't possible. "Minerva…" The way that Severus told it, Minerva hadn't had much of an opportunity to observe her surroundings that night. "Minerva, you can't go back there. There is nothing left."

Albus had done his best these past few months to shield her from the threat of Voldemort and the outside world. Perhaps too much. She thought him exaggerating when he said Voldemort was waiting for her to take just one step out of the castle. She didn't seem to realize the gravity of the situation.

He hadn't told her then, and he didn't dare tell her now, about the now childless and inconsolable young witch currently in ward 49 at St. Mungo's for lack of a better place.

When they had arrived by stork, Minerva had sent back, untouched, all of the baby items that she had purchased on her trip with Filius. Albus had attempted to retrieve the various items, but with a two day delay, he hadn't been entirely successful. One of the blankets had been resold. It had been put into use before he had managed to track down the purchaser. The baby blanket had been enchanted to suffocate the infant it was placed around.

Minerva's first choice not an option, Albus offered up what he wanted. "Minerva, I want to put an end to this charade. Never mind Voldemort. We can find a way to deal with him. I want to marry you and tell people the truth."

Minerva shook her head. "It's too late for that. You already made your choice. Now you get to live with it."

He understood; she was still hurt by his earlier words and actions. He had so much to make amends for. "Minerva, I don't know what I could possibly have been thinking when I left like that. Please, allow me a chance to make it up to you. I want to be there for you and our baby."

Her teeth were practically clenched. "We don't need you!"

"But I need you."

Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned forward and softly kissed her mouth. He had hope, if only briefly. Not only did she allow him to do it, she returned and even deepened the kiss. But then, no doubt remembering her anger, she pulled back. His lips tried to follow, to convince her with more kisses, but the extreme bulge of her belly, combined with her uncooperativeness, prevented him from getting close enough to again reach her lips.

"Pity for you! What you want or need is no longer of concern to me."

He knew that was just her wounded pride talking. She didn't really mean it. Did she? "Minerva, please!"

But she was absolutely adamant. "I wouldn't marry you now - not if you asked me a hundred times!"

He could do nothing but watch as she turned to exit the room.

Not knowing what else to do, Albus headed for his own office to do what he always seemed to be doing of late – bury himself in work. Merlin knew there was always plenty of it. He was there in his office offering Fawkes a treat when the tiny flash of light that signaled an alarm reached him. Minerva had left the range of the permanent tracing charm he had put on her after her shopping expedition with Filius so many months ago – she had left the castle grounds.

As Albus turned and went back out the door, the poor treatless phoenix that was left behind gave a trill of indignation.

Running through the castle, racing to the point past which he could apparate, Albus had only one idea of where she would have gone. Refusing to tempt the fates by cursing her even under his breath, he tried not to think of what he would do if the cottage in Aberdeen wasn't the place she had gone to, or worse, if someone else got there before him.

Even once he got to the cottage and found her inside, still safe, he couldn't bring himself to curse her for her foolishness. She was seated on the only piece of furniture not destroyed, crying with her face buried in her arms.

Albus noticed right away that something wasn't right in the cottage. While he had been able to apparate in without any problems, when he made a tentative attempt to test the ability to depart the same way, he could feel something blocking the way.

Going to her, he pleaded with her. "Minerva, please, we have to leave _now_. The cottage may be being watched."

Lifting her head, Minerva lamented. "It's all gone. Everything I've spent my life working and waiting for – it's all gone!"

Albus knew it wasn't the material things around her that she was referring to, but rather her reputation, her position at the school, and the relationship that they had once had.

Forcing her to look in his direction, for the first time, Albus placed his hand on the swell of her abdomen. "No. _This_ is what _we_ have spent our whole lives working and waiting for. _This!"_

She kept his gaze for a minute before allowing him to pull her into his arms. She continued to cry – loud, hitching sobs - as she buried her face in his neck, but at last he had her in his arms again.

It had been so long since he had held her, he remained entwined with her, allowing himself to savor the experience for a moment – a moment too long.

The distinctive pops that began sounding around them could only indicate one thing. With Minerva still pressed against him, sobbing, Albus looked up to see the Death Eaters begin apparating in around them, wands drawn. It was only then, seeing their wands, that Albus realized that he had never retrieved his.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N Thanks again Maria for making the time to beta this. I know it has been in short supply of late.

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Voldemort had had months in which to carefully plan out exactly what he would do with Minerva McGonagall when he got a hold of her.

His first leanings had been towards something a bit dramatic. Something that would serve as a warning for others. Perhaps slicing her from stem to stern and leaving her posted outside the Ministry Building with a permanent sticking charm? He wondered just how long would it take for the Ministry people to get her down? As for her baby … While the blood of a newborn was quite powerful, if the rumors going around were true, the infant's blood would be unsuitable for potion use. Instead, Voldemort was going to do with it what one did with unwanted kittens – put it in a sack and drown it. He could do it right there at the Ministry in the Fountain of Magical Brethren.

His next idea was to make it into something of an intellectual challenge between himself and Dumbledore. He could owl Dumbledore with a challenge to save McGonagall by outwitting him. Voldemort could include with the letter a clue that would lead to the location of another clue, which would lead him to another clue describing where to find yet another clue, ad nauseam, until a final clue would lead to the location where McGonagall was being held. Naturally, there would have to be a time limit and if Dumbledore wasn't able to make his way through all the clues in the allotted time … poor Professor McGonagall.

Of course, Voldemort was leaving no room for mistakes this time and fully intended to kill McGonagall the very instant that he found her, but that was not for Dumbledore to know.

Then he had thought, what if instead of just leaving clues, he heightened the suspense? What if he left a piece of her with each clue? Make it into a true scavenger hunt!

Voldemort knew it would be important to Dumbledore to get her back. Voldemort thought about demonstrating his magnanimous nature by saving Dumbledore the trouble of a drawn out and fruitless search by sending her back - a sort of good will gesture. Voldemort wondered; would a zombie McGonagall still be able to pass through the castle's defenses?

Finally, he had settled on the idea of combining the two. He would return her to Dumbledore, but one piece at a time.

What he had the hardest time deciding was which piece to send back first. Should he go for the prolonged drama of owling Dumbledore her fingers one a day for ten days? Or did he want to go for the symbolism and send her right hand intact? After all, he had originally targeted Minerva McGonagall because, as everyone knew, she was Dumbledore's 'right hand' woman.

Arriving, Voldemort discovered that all of his worrying had been unnecessary. As Dumbledore was already here, he could just watch.

Dumbledore had his arms wrapped around her. He appeared to be trying to shield her with his own body. It really was quite touching and noble – if you went in for that kind of thing. Voldemort didn't.

Not so stoic as the last time they had met, McGonagall was hiding in Dumbledore's beard, crying. As Voldemort raised his wand, she didn't even turn to face him.

A giddy Voldemort wondered; would a single _Avada Kedavra_ kill two people if they were in close enough proximity? He was about to find out.

Two flashes of crimson light – one after the other – blinded him momentarily. As the second light faded and his eyes struggled to readjust, he saw that the two figures were no more. In their place was a single feather.

Foiled again, Voldemort said to no one in particular. "I have _got_ to get one of those!"

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Safe in her rooms, still in his arms, Minerva kept crying. The last few moments had undoubtedly been a terrible shock. Stroking her hair, Albus tried to reassure her. "It's all right. You're safe now."

Not for the first time, Albus was grateful to have such a timely friend as the one currently routing about his robe pockets for the treat that had been in Albus's hand when he had run off before.

A number of thoughts competed for attention in his mind. Clearly, the Death Eaters arrival at the cottage so soon after their own was not a coincidence. Was it simply that the cottage was being monitored for signs of activity? Or was it something more intricate? Albus couldn't help questioning the timing of the afternoon's meeting. Was one, or more, of the Governors involved? And who exactly was the young man who had been given _explicit _orders not to let Albus pass with his wand – and exactly whose orders had it been?

He had to get Moody and whichever aurors or Order members could be readily found. They had to get back to the cottage and quickly if there was to be any hope of finding Voldemort and his followers still there.

He greatly wanted to stay with her, but time was of the essence. Stroking her hair one last time, he rose. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Startled out of her crying, Minerva looked up at him. "You're leaving?"

He assured her. "I'll be back soon. I promise."

Minerva repeated. "You're leaving?"

"I have to find Alastor and …" Albus trailed off. Something about the way that Minerva had repeated herself, her tone and her expression of complete and utter disbelief ... Albus knew something was off.

"Let me guess - you have a very important meeting!"

Before her words were even out, just Minerva's wounded expression at the very idea that he might have some other place he would prefer to be at the moment, confirmed it for him.

She hadn't noticed what was going on around them just before Fawkes had whisked them to safety. There hadn't been any voluble noises – no curses being lobbed back and forth, no riotous rejoicing by Voldemort. There was just the many distinctive, though slight, popping sounds of the people displacing the air around them as they apparated in. It had all occurred so quickly – all in just a few seconds … considering the noise Minerva herself had been generating, he supposed the sounds of the Death Eaters and Voldemort would have been easily drowned out.

"I have to…" Albus hesitated. He didn't want to alarm her. The danger was passed, but still it would be a shock. It wasn't as if he could tell her and then just leave. If he told her, he would need to remain and be certain that she was all right. Precious minutes had already gone by.

Albus offered her his most apologetic look. "I have to go. I will return as soon as I can and I promise I will explain everything then."

In less than five minutes, equipped with Alastor's spare wand and accompanied by several Maurauders, Longbottoms, and aurors, Albus was back at the cottage. By the flames that completely engulfed it, Albus knew he was already too late. Leaving the others to attempt to put out that particular fire, Albus headed back to Hogwarts to deal with another.

Reaching Minerva's rooms, Albus found the door once charmed to open at his approach charmed no more. He knocked, but to no avail. Attempting the knob, he found it bit.

Albus cursed himself for his foolishness. Had he really thought that Voldemort and his band of merry men would wait for him to return with better numbers? The trip had been a waste of everyone's time and more importantly, it had lost him his chance with Minerva.

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"What is it, my pet? Is it Peeves?" It couldn't be students. Those miserable miscreants were gone for the summer. Whatever it was, it had to be good - Filch had never seen Mrs. Norris this excited before.

Her excitement was becoming contagious as he followed her straight towards Gryffindor Tower.

Mrs. Norris had already gotten him close enough to be able to hear whoever it was. From the moans, he thought it was Myrtle. That would be a real disappointment; the Headmaster had steadfastly refused his requests to banish her.

Turning the corner, he instead found Professor McGonagall clutching onto a door frame in an attempt to stay standing. Moving forward, he awkwardly put an arm under her for support. "Hospital Wing?"

In too much pain to speak, she managed a slight nod.

"What were you thinking – trying to walk? I thought Poppy had your fireplace connected directly to the Hospital Wing?" She didn't seem to have been thinking at all because she was turned in the wrong direction for getting to the Hospital Wing.

Perspiration beaded her forehead. "I need…to…Albus!"

With her barely able to speak, Argus hadn't the heart to keep chastising her. When they finally made it to the Hospital Wing, Poppy had no such reservations.

"Whatever possessed you to try walking? Of all the…"

Argus kept his voice low as he tried to get Poppy's attention. "Is she going to be all right? It's early isn't it?"

The school nurse dismissed his worries. "Only a few weeks. In this kind of thing, a few weeks means nothing."

While Poppy got Minerva settled into one of the hospital beds, Filch moved to the side – unsure of what to do. The school nurse noticed him still standing there. "Argus, unless you would like to see a baby being born, I suggest you find somewhere else to be."

Horrified at the very idea, Filch moved to take her advice.

Before he could get out the door, McGonagall stopped him. "Argus, wait!"

Filch started to panic. She wanted him to stay? He couldn't! The things he would have to see – the horrors!

Despite her obvious discomfort, McGonagall struggled to talk. "Argus, I…I was supposed to have a list of potential first years ready for Dumbledore this morning. I don't…think it will be ready. Argus, could you please go tell him what is happening?"

Relieved that was all she wanted, backing out of the room, Filch tried to reassure her. "Sure. I'll let him know. You take care now."

Despite what else she had going on, she was worried about having some list ready for the Headmaster! Now_ that_ was dedication!

She looked almost desperate. "You'll go tell him now?"

Filch frowned. "It's the middle of the night. He's probably asleep. I'll tell him first thing in the morning."

McGonagall looked like she was going to start crying. "I need him…to know. Please go now."

Glad to say anything to get out of there, Filch readily agreed.

Of course, he only said that to reassure her. It was almost two in the morning. He had no intention of waking the Headmaster. No doubt in the morning when he heard the news, Dumbledore would be able to figure it out.

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Entering the Great Hall, Albus wasn't surprised to see Minerva's seat empty. On the pretense of an 'easily offset stomach' she had taken to having meals in her rooms. In actuality, it was his presence that she couldn't stomach.

As soon he took his seat, Pomona leaned over to him. "Has there been any word yet?"

"Word?"

"About Minerva and the baby! Filch said he helped her to the Hospital Wing late last night."

The students were gone for the summer, but many of the staff had remained out of a morbid curiosity.

Filius squeaked. "I bet it has happened by now! The kneazle I had as a child never took more than a few hours to deliver any of her litters."

Kettleburn shook his head. "True, kneazles usually don't take long, and if it were the kneazle doing the work, I would agree. But with a kneazle father that wouldn't make a difference."

Filius turned to him for a second opinion. "Albus, what do you think?"

What did he think? The whole thing was a debacle. The woman he loved was in the Hospital Wing and could at this very moment be giving birth to his child and he wouldn't even know about it. Minerva refused to speak to him, or even be in the same room as him – not that he could blame her after the way that he had behaved.

Filius took up the slack in the conversation. "This is so exciting! After breakfast, I'm going to head over to see!"

Lost in his own thoughts, but wanting to appear absorbed in something else, Albus picked up the newspaper. The Daily Prophet headline was brightly colored and in bold face print. As if that weren't enough, it periodically gave off a blinding light like the flash of a camera.

_**1000 Galleon Reward For The First Picture Of The Hideous Half Man-Half Kneazle Beast**_

Utterly disgusted, Albus threw the paper back down on the table. Not having any appetite to begin with, he had none to lose. He knew he wasn't welcome in the Hospital Wing, but he had to know. Leaving the table and the Great Hall, he decided to walk _by_ the Hospital Wing in the hopes of being able to glean some news.

As he walked, thinking back to the paper he had left behind, he shook his head in disgust. He was once again grateful that Minerva was still at Hogwarts. At least for now, he could prevent anyone from getting to her or the baby. The whole affair had brought out the worst in some people, but no doubt the paper's offer would bring out the lowest of the low. It would stir the most despicable people, the very dregs of humanity, to action.

Nearly to the Hospital Wing he was surprised to run into his brother Aberforth.

"Aberforth, what are you doing here?"

Aberforth was startled. "Oh, I…I came to see you."

"How…" Untimely? Unwanted? Unwelcome? "… unexpected. Why don't we go to my office?"

"Your office?" Aberforth looked almost longingly in the direction of the Hospital Wing. "Your office, sure."

Once they arrived and were settled with tea, Albus questioned his brother. "And to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Albus averted his eyes as Aberforth adjusted his robes in a most indecorous manner. "I just wanted to stop in, see how you were doing."

Generally a visit from Aberforth meant he was either looking for Albus to get him out of a spot of trouble or he needed to borrow money. Today, Albus could really do without the preamble. "That's the only reason?"

Aberforth stood and raised his voice loud enough that an elf appeared. "Can't one brother visit another without a reason?! Why do you always look for an ulterior motive? Why must you always think the worst of me?! If that's what you think of me, I'll just leave!"

Albus waved away the elf. He was taken back by his brother's vehemence. "Aberforth, I'm sorry. I meant no offense. Please sit."

Reluctantly, Aberforth returned to his seat. "I'm concerned about you – that's all. With everything that's been going on, I wanted to see how you were holding up."

Albus tried to force a smile. "As you can see, I am doing just fine."

Aberforth shook his head. "I don't believe you. I know this situation must be hard on you."

Albus gave what he hoped came across as an ambivalent shrug. "It's a bit awkward and embarrassing for the school, but nothing that we can't weather. Professor McGonagall has already tendered her resignation." Albus struggled to keep his voice even. "I believe she plans to leave as soon as she and the baby are well enough to travel. That should help to minimize the embarrassment for the school."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, Albus. I know that this has got to be tearing you up inside. I've watched you two tiptoeing around for years. I know you were - _are _in love with her."

Uncertain of how much Aberforth knew, Albus hid behind his tea.

"I know you haven't acted on your feelings in the past for fear of Voldemort and his ilk, but maybe you should consider it now. This kneazle thing…" Aberforth shrugged "…it's downright impossible, but it's done and it can't be helped."

Albus shook his head. "It's too late now."

Aberforth was growing impatient with him. "You have to at least try!"

Albus let out a sigh. "It's no good now."

Aberforth snapped. "So a kneazle got there before you! That's rough, but it doesn't mean you can't go there too."

"I didn't mean it_ that_ way. I meant…" Albus tried and failed to clarify. "Oh, I don't know what I mean anymore."

"Albus, it's not too late. Not yet it isn't. She needs you. Go to her. Tell her how you feel. Tell her you love her and you want to marry her. Tell her now before it really is too late."

The more Albus thought about it, the more he knew that Aberforth was right. He had to go to Minerva now. He had to make her understand how much he loved her and how much he wanted this child. How he longed for them to be together as a family. After everything that he had done and not done there was a very good chance that Minerva no longer felt the same way, but Aberforth was right – he had to at least try. Maybe it wasn't too late.

Albus stood. "You're right. I have to at least try!"

Aberforth rose and clapped him on the back. "That's my boy. I'll go with you…for…moral support."

Albus clapped his brother on the back in return. There was a loud clatter.

Looking down, Albus wondered when he had become so gullible, so easy to fool. Aberforth had told him all the things that he had wanted to hear. But that didn't make any of them true.

"Eh. Now where did that come from?"

All the way to the front doors, Aberforth feigned ignorance of the camera that had fallen from the folds of his robes.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Reaching the Hospital Wing some time after ejecting his brother, Albus found he wasn't the only one skulking about hoping to discover information. Better than half his staff could be found there, including Kettleburn and Flitwick.

"Pay up, Filius. Poppy already told us it would only be one."

The diminutive Charms Professor had his ear pressed to the door. "None of my pet kneazles _ever_ had less than four in a litter! Sometimes as many as eleven, but _never_ less than four! They are incredibly prolific creatures."

"And I already told you, it's the female kneazle who determines how many kittens will be in a litter, based on the number of eggs she releases for the male kneazle to fertilize. Human females generally release only one egg."

Having heard enough, Albus interrupted. "Has there been any word?"

"Poppy came out to yell at us for being too loud."

Filius' answer wasn't really what he had been looking for. Thankfully, Kettleburn's response was more in line with what he wanted to know.

"When she was out here, she said it shouldn't be much longer. That was almost two hours ago."

Albus nodded. He saw Filius had a few brightly wrapped parcels in his hands. The thought of bringing a present had never even crossed Albus' mind.

Noticing his gaze, Filius happily obliged. "I couldn't decide between them so I bought both. A stuffed toy kneazle, because I think it is important that the child_ren_ know about their heritage, and a package of ice mice."

Here was Filius with two…if not well thought out, at least well intentioned presents, and he, the child's father, had brought nothing.

Pomona, also included amongst the throng waiting, pointed out a few of the things that Albus was already thinking. "Do you really think that Minerva will want a reminder around of the baby's father? And ice mice will go stale long before the baby will be old enough to eat them."

Filius would not concede the point. "A human baby, yes, but you are forgetting that the _babies_ are half kneazle. Kneazles develop much more quickly. They start walking when they are only two to three weeks old. At four weeks old they start eating solids. By six weeks they are almost entirely self sufficient. Why, by eight weeks, Minerva will have a devil of a time keeping track of them all!"

The others murmured their agreement. Minerva would be quite pleased; it seemed people had been wholly taken in by her deception.

Filius pressed on. "If she really does intend to keep them all, maybe she could try putting them on leashes – not that the little devils will have any kind of trouble chewing throu-"

Filius broke off his speaking, and Albus's heart simply broke as an angry wail could be heard from the room behind the door.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Poppy was reassured by the very loud, very healthy cries made by the newborn. It meant that there wasn't likely to be anything seriously wrong with him. Not taking the time to satisfy her _intellectual _curiosity, she quickly wrapped him in a blanket and set him aside to finish caring for Minerva's needs.

Once that was taken care of, Poppy returned her attentions to the wailing bundle. A few cleansing charms had him cleaned, but she found it necessary to take a breath to brace herself before opening the blanket for a look at what was inside.

She was pleased to be able to count ten fingers, ten toes, and one of something else in the front, but her real relief came when she turned him over and _didn't_ find anything. "He's perfect. Not even a hint of tail!"

"Let me see him!"

Finally getting to hold her baby, Minerva looked like she might start crying. "He has his father's eyes."

Poppy knew this was an awful situation and it needed to be handled delicately. "They might change. Lots of babies are born with blue eyes, but that doesn't mean he will keep them."

Minerva looked so forlorn. "I thought that he would be here with me. I really did."

Poppy frowned, confused. "Who dear?"

Minerva didn't seem to have heard her. "I thought that he would come round to the idea, that this was what he wanted too. I never imagined that he would really just walk away from us."

Realizing that Minerva was talking about the baby's kneazle father, Poppy didn't know what to say. Finally, she settled on the axiom, "All men are beasts."

Minerva ran her finger along the baby's cheek. "It doesn't matter. I wanted a baby and now I have one."

Holding the baby up to kiss him, at least to Poppy's mind, Minerva didn't look like she really thought it didn't matter.

What Minerva's words seemed to suggest had already been said in the Staff Room – more than a few times, but always in jest. Poppy couldn't decide if the idea that the encounter might have been consensual was less or more horrible. Incredibly disturbed, Poppy patted Minerva's hand with a forced smile. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Minerva traced the baby's features with her finger. "Send an owl to Alastor Moody asking him to call at the castle. I'd like to take him up on an offer he once made."

Not wanting to upset Minerva by telling her that was no longer an option – at least, it better _not_ be if Alastor knew what was good for him – Poppy tried to put the matter off. "Tomorrow dear. We'll worry on that tomorrow."

Never taking her eyes off the baby in her arms, Minerva sadly insisted. "There's no point in waiting any longer."

Poppy offered a compromise. "I'll send an owl asking him to stop by tomorrow. Now try to get some rest. You've both had a very trying night."

Putting a screen part way around the bed to give the two some privacy, Poppy went to disperse the crowd that was no doubt still waiting outside the Hospital wing.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Though he knew in reality it was only some twenty odd minutes, the time from when he first heard the baby's squall to the time Poppy came out of the infirmary – empty handed – felt like an eternity.

"It's a boy!" Poppy was beaming as in an extremely loud whisper she added, "No tail at all!"

Filius and the others gave up an excited roar, but Albus wasn't quite ready to celebrate. "And Minerva? Is she all right?"

Poppy nodded. "Utterly exhausted, but doing as well as can be expected given the circumstances."

Poppy was deliberately blocking the doorway with her frame. Even with his superior height, Albus was unable to get a glimpse of the two individuals he so desperately desired to see. Through the partially open door all he could catch sight of was a window, also partially open.

"I need to see her."

He might have stood a chance if not for all the others. When they too took up the request, Poppy sent everyone on their way.

"Certainly not! Everyone can come back tomorrow."

There were a few token protests, but now that the possibility of a tail had been dismissed, interest waned quickly. When all the others had gone, leaving just him, Poppy spoke to him directly. He rather got the idea that she enjoyed having some authority over him.

"Everyone includes you, Headmaster."

With that, she closed the door in his face.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N Thanks again Maria for making the time to beta this. Any remaining errors are entirely my own doing.

Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated.

'''''''''''''''''''

Albus remained there, standing outside the infirmary, for how long he couldn't say. He kept hoping that Poppy would come back out looking for him. That she would tell him that Minerva had asked to see him. But it was obvious that wasn't going to happen.

If only he could just see them for a moment - just to know Minerva and her son were all right. Minerva and _her_ son. He hadn't even the right to call the baby his in his own mind.

His mind drifted back to when Poppy had come out to tell them the news. He supposed it had been too much to hope for that she come out holding the baby. What he wouldn't give for even a glimpse of Minerva and the baby. But Poppy had prevented him from getting even that. With her in the way, all he had been able to see was the window on the far wall.

Wondering at the possibilities presented by that half open window, Albus headed down the hall to the first empty room.

Opening one of the windows and looking out, he considered the width of the ledge versus the height to the ground. Who ever thought it a good idea to put the Hospital Wing on the third floor of the castle? The ground floor would have been much more sensible.

Transfiguring, he cautiously made his way along the ledge towards the Hospital Wing. Lucky to find the window still open and doubly lucky to not find Poppy still in the room, he climbed through to the other side.

All the students had been sent home the week before, so finding the sole occupied bed didn't present a challenge. She looked a vision – sweaty, exhausted, hair matted, but still to him a vision – asleep with a bundle in her arms that was no doubt their baby.

He wasn't going to disturb them. He was just trying to get to higher ground to better see. To that end, he was in the process of leaping onto the unoccupied bed beside her when he felt a rather unkind jerk on his tail.

"How did you get in here and just _what_ do you think you are doing?" It didn't take Rowena Ravenclaw to figure out who it was whispering.

Poppy looked first to the still closed door, but then her eyes fixed on the still open window. "If that's the way you came in, then that's the way you can go out! I've always heard cats will land on their feet, but I wonder if the same is true of kneazles?"

"Poppy?" Minerva's voice was more than somewhat sleep addled. "Who are you talking to?"

Poppy moved to be certain he remained out of sight. "No one, dear. Go back to sleep."

Thankfully, Minerva wasn't buying it. "Poppy?!"

Making an exasperated sound, Poppy finally raised him up in the air by the tuft of his tail so Minerva could see him. Twisting to look at Minerva, but unable to actually say anything without transforming and thereby giving everything away, Albus let out his most pathetic meow.

Seeing him there, Minerva's expression became as close to crying as one can get without crying. Then she smiled. "You came."

With a sigh, Poppy dropped him.

Ignoring the unoccupied bed beside Minerva, Albus leapt onto her bed. Getting his first glimpse of the baby, Albus found him to be perfect – all he could see in him was Minerva. It wasn't until the baby opened his eyes for a moment that Albus saw something of himself in him.

When he moved closer and sniffed the baby, Poppy had had enough. "You!" She pointed at him. "The foot of the bed. And you – " she pointed to Minerva, "get some sleep."

Seemingly disgusted, Poppy returned to her office.

Albus wanted to speak, but even more he wanted to remain there. If he transformed, even if Poppy didn't discover him and make him leave, he would no doubt manage to say the wrong thing and give Minerva cause to ask him to leave. Perhaps the inability of his animagus form to speak was a boon. Besides, Poppy was right, Minerva needed to rest. So the whole of the afternoon and long into the evening, he remained just watching the pair slumber and listening to their contented sighs as they snuggled into each other.

At some point in the night, he must have drifted off. He awoke to a kick in his side. By the light streaming into the room, he could tell it was already morning. He had been there nearly a whole day. He didn't even give a thought to all the appointments he must have missed the day before.

Standing to stretch his legs, he looked at Minerva - the one who had kicked him. She motioned toward Poppy's office with her head.

Through the open door of her office, Albus could see Poppy occupied, speaking with someone through the Floo network.

After walking to the entrance of the Hospital Wing, he transformed back to his human form. He quietly opened the door, only to loudly slam it shut.

Naturally, Poppy immediately stormed out of her office. "How did you get in? That door was locked from the inside!"

Albus thought it simplest to tell the truth. "Magic."

Poppy seemed to find his answer unsatisfactory. "Headmaster, I know I did say tomorrow, but don't you think the hour is a bit early for visitors?"

"We're awake." Minerva assured Poppy before turning to Albus with an offer he couldn't refuse. "Would you like to hold him?"

Albus had held other babies before, but nothing – nothing – had ever prepared him for the experience, for the emotion of holding his own child.

When Poppy left to retrieve Minerva's breakfast tray, Albus felt a bit apprehensive. There had been some comfort in not being able to speak of certain matters.

"Minerva, I'd like to at least try to explain-"

"Albus, I'd rather not talk about it."

He nodded, accepting the rebuff. "Maybe we can discuss it in a few days when you are feeling-"

"No, Albus. I mean I don't want to talk about it at all. Not now, not ever."

His grasp on his son instinctively tightened. Minerva had had a chance to send him away yesterday, and again today. She hadn't, but he wasn't sure where her words left him.

"Albus, you said and did what you did and I said and did what I did. Talking about the past isn't going to change it."

Holding their child, he wanted to say so many things to her, but listening to her, Albus felt any words die in his throat before he could get them out.

She didn't look at him, but rather at their son as she continued speaking. "Tell me what it is that you want now, Albus. Do I take my son and leave Hogwarts tomorrow as planned? Or do you want to be a part of our child's life?"

He waited until her gaze was on him before he answered. "More than I have ever wanted anything before in my life."

More than just a trace of smugness was detectable in her response now that it was all said and done and she had been proven correct. "Albus, it was an either or question."

He realized she said it only in jest, but the past few days – no months - had all been too much. "Stop tormenting me."

Her hand came to rest on his. "Then let's stop focusing on the past and get on with our lives."

Minerva was quick to pull her hand away as Poppy approached the curtained area. On one hand she balanced a tray, while in the other the school nurse held a parchment. When she set it before Minerva, Albus saw that it was the baby's birth certificate.

"I've saved you the trouble of filling in all the rest of the information, but there was one part I didn't know the answer for."

Albus couldn't hide his dismay looking at the paper before him, seeing it officially written in the section for father: unknown. He tried a smile to mask the hurt in his eyes when Minerva noticed him looking at the certificate, but he wasn't very successful.

As Poppy went on talking, Albus realized that wasn't the section that she was referring to. "This little boy is in need of a name. What were you planning to call him?"

Minerva's hand found its way to the baby's curled fist. "I don't have a name picked out. I…I only ever thought about girl's names. By the time you told me the baby was going to be a boy, with the complications … I wouldn't allow myself to start thinking about the future."

As Minerva kept speaking, Albus moved his hand to cover hers in a gesture of comfort … and apology.

"I don't have anything ready for him. No name, no crib, no clothes, no diapers, not even any of the little pink dresses. I sent them all back."

"I'll take care of all that." Albus promised. "I'll go today and get everything you will need."

"Nonsense!" Poppy interjected. "What would you know about picking out baby things?"

Albus was beginning to find Poppy's presence rather irksome. Now he wished she would just leave so they could be alone. "I think I could manage –"

Squeezing his hand, Minerva interrupted him. "I'd rather Poppy went." She turned to face the nurse. "Poppy, I'm sure you would know just what to get."

Albus wasn't sure what to make of Minerva's mixed signals; rejecting his offer, yet squeezing his hand.

"True." Poppy gave him a smug look. "I would know exactly what to get, but you know I can't leave you all alone."

When Minerva again nudged his hand, Albus got what Minerva was trying for. He tried to hold back his smile as he offered to remain sans Poppy. "I have no pressing matters at the moment. I could stay to keep an eye on them until you return."

"All right." Excited at the prospect of shopping, Poppy agreed. "But first we need to finish filling this out."

His buoyant mood collapsed as his attention was again drawn to the form, but looking down at the babe contentedly sleeping in his arms, he knew the omission was necessary. What ever sacrifices needed to be made to ensure the safety of Minerva and their no name baby, he was willing to make them.

Minerva gently intruded on his thoughts. "Albus, can you think of any names?"

Albus hesitated a moment before responding. "I've always been rather fond of the name Waldorf myself. If I had a son that would be the name I would choose for him."

"Waldorf?" By her grimace he knew it was not a name she would have chosen herself, but she was making an effort to involve him. "What a...lovely name…Waldorf."

Poppy didn't seem to care for the name much either. "You know we really don't _need_ to do this right now. If you would like some more time to think on it…"

"No," The look Minerva was giving the baby was almost apologetic. "I think it suits him."

"Waldorf it is then." Poppy sounded less than enthralled as she bent to fill in the last blank on the certificate.

Straightening back up, Poppy bit her lip. "Now about that owl you wanted sent to Alastor."

"What owl to Alastor?" Albus saw the curt movement of her head that Minerva made - she was trying to get Poppy to drop the subject. "What owl to Alastor?" Albus repeated.

Poppy missed Minerva's signal or else didn't care. "Minerva has decided that she would like totake Alastor up on his offer."

"Yes, well, never mind that right now, Poppy." To Albus, Minerva suddenly seemed quite shifty eyed. "Right now we need to worry about getting some clothes and a place to sleep for …" Minerva wore a distasteful expression as she said the word. "… Waldorf."

As soon as Poppy was out the door, Albus stated in disbelief. "You were going to marry Alastor?"

"No! Not _that_ offer! He offered to lend a hand in repairing the wards around my cottage."

Albus wasn't entirely sure he believed her. More than a bit miffed, he made no attempt to cushion the blow. "Well he is a little busy right now planning his wedding to Poppy and besides, there is nothing left to be fixed. Voldemort burned the cottage to the ground!"

Minerva gasped. "That's not true! You're making that up!"

Albus was dismayed by her strong reaction. Was it because of the news of Alastor and Poppy?

Her next words assured him that that was not the case. "I was just there a few weeks ago!"

"Why do you think he did it?" Albus retorted.

Frowning Minerva went quiet.

Albus asked hesitantly. "You weren't still planning to leave Hogwarts to live there, were you?"

Minerva seemed to still be a bit put off, perhaps because of the way he had broken the news. She snapped in response. "No, but I still would have preferred it _not_ be burnt to the ground!"

Fair enough, a more cheerful Albus had to concede.

Minerva held out her arms for the baby. "You've held him long enough. Let me have him."

Albus objected. "I'm not done yet."

"You really are. It's my turn."

Albus shook his head. "My turn isn't over yet."

Minerva still had her arms out. "Which one of us carried him for the last nine months?"

"Ah," Albus countered, "But that is precisely why I should get to hold him now. You've already taken a very long turn."

Whatever no doubt witty response Minerva would have had to that, Albus never got to hear. Getting Poppy out of their way had also gotten her out of the way of everyone else who wanted to sneak a peak at the baby.

"What are you going to call him?" Pomona asked.

"Waldorf. Albus helped me pick it out."

Kettleburn derided the choice. "Albus, I can see why you don't have any children. Let me hold it."

"No." Albus didn't really want Kettleburn in the same room as his child, never mind touching him.

Kettleburn insisted. "I just want to see it."

Albus offered only one word in response. "No."

He offered the same response to both Pomona and Filius. Filch didn't even try.

"Let _me_ hold him." Minerva insisted.

Relenting at last, Albus relinquished the baby.

"Oh! I almost forgot!" Filius produced from his robe pocket the two parcels that Albus had seen earlier.

Unwrapping one of the parcels, Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Ice mice."

If Minerva didn't think much of the first present, she seemed at first sight to despise the second. Turning it over in her hands, she offered an insincere 'How considerate' before setting it atop the paper wrappings – no doubt hoping the toy kneazle would be discarded with the other rubbish.

Not having any of that, Filius picked it back up and gave it directly to the intended recipient. Much to Minerva's dislike, the baby immediately seemed to take a liking to it. He turned to rest his cheek against the soft fur.

"Suffocation hazard." Minerva declared plucking it from the baby's grasp.

"Charmed against it." Filius countered in a forced cheerful voice as he returned the toy to the baby.

Albus wasn't sure if the evil eye Minerva was casting was directed at the toy or Filius. Either way, with a mock yawn, she cut the visit short. "It was wonderful of you all to stop by, but I fear it's a bit early for visitors still. We're still both quite exhausted."

Albus was glad to be rid of them. Another time, he might have enjoyed their company, but right now he wished a bit of privacy to speak openly with Minerva and bask in the magnificence of their new son.

After ushering them to the door, he returned to find Minerva with her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

"It's all right, they're gone. You don't have to pretend to be tired anymore."

Not getting a response – even after several nudges – he realized she hadn't been pretending.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Albus looked around the half packed room one last time. "So you have everything you need?"

Minerva eyed him as she answered. "Almost." Filius, Poppy, and Pomona had also shown up to see her and the baby off, so Minerva could elaborate no further. Still Albus knew the kiss she pressed to the top of their baby's head was intended for him.

Filius spoke the words that Albus himself was feeling. "I can't believe you and the baby are leaving! Are you sure you won't stay?"

Minerva looked to Albus, not Filius, as she answered. "It's just for the summer. We'll be back when classes start."

Poppy decided to join in. "Where are you going? And I don't understand why you are going in the first place! The castle has wards and incantations. Where ever you are going can't possibly be as safe as here!"

Seeing that Minerva was getting a bit overwhelmed with all the questions, Albus stepped in to try to end it. "I made all the arrangements, including the portkey, myself. Their destination is known only to Minerva and myself and I assure you, it is every bit as safe as the castle."

"If it's only _as_ safe as the castle, why go through all the bother?"

Minerva hesitated not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings. "I think … we'd like some time to be alone together."

That put a damper on the conversation, but Filius soon started a new topic. "What about a fresh nappy for the road? Please, allow me."

"I just changed him not long ago."

"Oh." Filius sounded disproportionately disappointed. "Still, you never can be too sure." Without another word, Filius and the other ladies absconded with the baby to the changing table in the next room.

Minerva turned her head to keep a watchful eye on the goings on.

Albus took a step closer and put a comforting hand on her shoulder before beginning to speak. "I'll stop by to check on how you two are settling in just as soon as I possibly can." Now that the others were in the next room, he could start to say some of the things that he had been holding back. "I'm going to miss you when you go."

Minerva gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything in response, so Albus began to prompt her. "This is the part where you say that you will miss me too."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "You truly are daft."

"Perhaps," he agreed, "but it's true. I will miss you."

To the unfamiliar eye, Minerva's expression would no doubt appear annoyed or exasperated, but knowing her as well as he did, Albus was able to detect the trace of pleasure at his declarations.

"I suspect you will manage to get over it soon enough."

"Never could I-" As the others returned, Albus found himself unable to continue.

Though very happy to take the baby back from a crestfallen Filius, Minerva looked quite worn. "We're both still a little fatigued. I think it's best we get going now."

When he simply nodded understandingly, Minerva prodded him. "Albus, the portkey, please."

Reluctantly handing over the portkey to Minerva, he stroked the few dark hairs on the baby's head. After a last round of goodbyes were exchanged by all, Albus touched his wand to the portkey, setting it off.

Watching that portkey go off without him had to be one of the hardest things that Albus had ever had to endure.

Picking up the toy kneazle that Minerva had no doubt deliberately left behind, Albus held it close. He was so overcome with emotion, he had to clear his throat several times to be able to sound something approximating normal when he finally managed to address the others. "If you all will excuse me, I have some paperwork to take care of in my office."

He needn't have concerned himself about trying to sound normal for them.

Poppy and Pomona were on the sofa, seated on either side of a dejected looking Filius, trying to console him.

Leaving the room, still clutching the kneazle, he heard Filius sigh. "Do you think maybe the tail will grow in later?"

Poppy sounded quite skeptical, but refrained from ruling out the possibility. "I suppose anything is possible."


	35. Chapter 35

A/N Thanks again Maria for making the time to beta check this. I made a number of additions and changes after the fact so all the remaining errors are entirely my own doing.

While I originally intended to have this story continue until it matched up with the facts suggested in 'When Kneazles Attack', more recently I seriously considered ending the story with the first segment of this chapter and starting work on finishing something else. I eventually decided to continue on as originally planned, but some readers may prefer to stop reading here. There are only a few chapters left but a large part of what is remaining is fluff meant as a reward for the earlier angst filled chapters.

"""""""""""""""""""

Entering his office, Albus bypassed his desk with all its papers and immediately headed for the staircase to his private rooms. Taking his boots off in the sitting room, in stocking clad feet he quietly crept into the bedroom. He found Minerva, eyes closed, in the center of his bed with the baby asleep in her arms. Waldorf's head was nestled in the crook of her neck. In his slumber the baby gave a contented little sigh.

Albus lay down beside them. Brushing his lips against Minerva's ear, he whispered, "I told you I would miss you when you left."

Adjusting herself to be in his arms without bothering to open her eyes, Minerva retorted. "And I told you that you would manage to get over it soon enough."

Resting a hand on Waldorf's back to feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, Albus couldn't hold back a smile. "And I suppose by now I should have learned that you are always right."

Placing the toy kneazle beside the baby, inadvertently, he brushed it against Minerva's arm. He chuckled watching her open one eye and groan at the sight of the kneazle's return.

""""""""""""""""

"Headmaster, you simply must take me to wherever it is that Minerva is hiding! It's been nearly a month now. Both Minerva and that baby need to be seen!"

"I assure you, Poppy, I have seen them – earlier today as a matter of fact – and both mother and child are doing fine."

"Is that your trained medical opinion, Headmaster?" Poppy's tone was becoming a bit presumptuous. "I _insist_ that you take me to them now!"

Albus hadn't been expecting Poppy's visit to his office and as such had not thought to warn Minerva of it. But the door to Albus's bedroom was charmed to allow no sound to pass, so Albus had seen no reason to panic.

At least, not until Minerva opened the door and called down. "Albus, have you seen that bloody kneazle?"

Thinking quickly, Albus called back over the din of the baby's crying. "It's down here. _Right where you left it when you portkeyed in just moments ago to see Poppy for your checkup."_

"Portkeyed in?" Minerva stuck her head out the door. "Poppy? Poppy!"

Poppy gave him a rather cross look – no doubt she thought that he had been being deliberately difficult with her. Thankfully, Poppy turned her disapproval onto Minerva without seeming to find anything out of the ordinary. "Well it's about time you brought that baby back here for a check up!"

Sounding thoroughly scandalized, Poppy commented on Minerva's earlier question. "So _the_ kneazle came too? When you said you wanted to be alone together, I didn't realize you meant with _him_."

"Not _that_ kneazle." Minerva corrected her. "The one Filius gave the baby."

The baby cradled in Minerva's arms was still crying. Poppy wrinkled her nose in disgust. "He isn't colic, is he?"

"No." Minerva sighed. Accioing the toy kneazle and handing it to the baby, the cries immediately died out.

Watching the toy kneazle fly up the staircase, Poppy's eyes narrowed. "Mm hm. Now why exactly are you in Albus's private rooms?"

Albus grimaced. So much for Poppy not finding anything out of the ordinary.

Minerva was quick to try to minimize her earlier error. "Albus allowed me the use of his private sitting room to feed the baby … Armando's leering was making me feel uncomfortable."

Indignant, Armando defended his honor. "Leering?! Never in my life have I ever leered at a woman!"

The purported purpose of the portraits of the previous Headmasters and Headmistresses adorning the walls was to offer council and aid to the current Headmaster in times of need. Albus doubted Phineas's attempt to join the conversation had such altruistic leanings. "Oh, I saw him! He was! For shame, Armando! For shame!!"

The mood lightened considerably as that answer seemed to satisfy Poppy. "Please, you don't have to tell me. I knew Armando Dippet in life. The man was an absolute hound dog." Ignoring Armando's protests, Poppy continued. "I'll go get everything ready. Finish up and then bring that baby to my office straight away."

Listening to the sound of Poppy's footsteps receding, Albus warned. "That could have been bad."

"I don't leer." Armando repeated.

"Oh, but you do!" Phineas insisted.

If only to get away from those two, Albus indicated the door. "Shall we?"

Examining Waldorf, Poppy found only one cause for concern. "Is it just me or has that birthmark gotten larger?"

Minerva protested. "I don't think –"

Poppy dismissed her opinion. "Of course you wouldn't be able to see it. You are around it all the time. The change would have been too gradual for you to notice." Poppy turned to him. "What do you think, Albus?"

Having seen the baby nearly as often as Minerva, Albus was no help. "I couldn't really say. Maybe a little?"

Albus had never really thought much of the small spot on the baby's backside. "Is it something to be concerned about?"

"Probably not." Poppy pulled a camera out of thin air. "Still, just to be sure, I'll take a photograph to document it. Just to track the size, you understand."

Albus nixed the idea. The reward offered by The Daily Prophet was currently at 5,000 galleons. He was perhaps being a bit overly cautious – after all the picture would only be of the baby's backside. Unless the photograph showed a tail, he doubted even the Prophet would bother to run it. "Wouldn't measuring it be just as, if not more, accurate?"

Poppy didn't argue. Whether it was that he had thwarted her get rich quick scheme or that she realized that his objection had less to do with medical accuracy and more to do with what he believed of her integrity, her tone towards him changed. Sounding affronted, she unceremoniously thrust the baby into his arms. "Do make yourself useful, Headmaster."

Putting a partition around the bed, she had Minerva disrobe. The partition shielded Minerva from his view, but Poppy was still often visible at the end of the bed. It did nothing to muffle their voices.

Albus wasn't paying much attention to their exchange, but towards the end of the exam his ears pricked up.

"I wondered, Poppy, how long before I can resume certain _activities_?"

Poppy answered disinterestedly. "If the bleeding has tapered off you should be fine to do just about anything. If you feel like you are overexerting yourself or have any discomfort stop, but you should be fine to climb stairs, take the baby for walks, and so on."

Minerva hesitated. "I was wondering about a particular activity."

Poppy didn't look up as she kept writing in her chart. "Swimming should be fine."

"No, not that activity."

Poppy didn't seem to get what Minerva was asking. "What activity then?"

Minerva let her modest silence fill Poppy in on the answer.

At Poppy's horrified expression - the way her mouth repeatedly opened and closed without any sound coming out - Albus realized that she assumed Minerva meant with the kneazle.

Finally finding her voice, Poppy cautioned Minerva. "Not for a while. Not for a very, very long while."

Beginning to redress, Minerva attempted to change the topic. "Poppy, you'll have to send my invitation to the wedding through Albus."

Slightly recovered, Poppy waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it doesn't look like it's going to happen. Alastor has cold feet."

"Oh Poppy!"

Albus shared Minerva's shock. "He called off the wedding?"

Poppy shook her head. "No, I did. His feet are cold." Seeing their confused expressions, Poppy added. "In bed."

Albus was truly flabbergasted. "You called off the wedding for that? What about a warming charm?"

Poppy shrugged. "Casting it every night for the rest of my life? Who wants to have to deal with that? Certainly not me."

Albus exchanged glances with Minerva, but neither said more.

On the way back to his rooms, Minerva questioned him. "Surely you didn't think Poppy would try to sell the photograph to the paper?"

"I don't know." Albus answered honestly. "The promise of money can make people do things you never would have expected of them. Greed changes people." Albus hesitated, but he wanted to brace Minerva for the blow that was surely to come. "We should be careful - even of our closest friends."

"One of the pitfalls, I suppose, of only allowing our friends near the baby - that it would have to be one of them to betray us." Minerva didn't say anything more, but he could tell by her silence that she was hurt by the very idea.

As they reached the gargoyles, she turned to him. "You know, you are lucky that I'm not as particular as Poppy."

At the question posed by his raised eyebrow, she explained. "Your nose is cold."

Albus had to restrain himself from reaching up to check. "Ah, but that is an improvement over yours, my dear. Yours is always wet."

As the rotating stairs carried them upwards, Minerva gave him a look best described as haughty. "Only in my animagus form – and it's supposed to be." She went on to point out another of the many flaws of his with which she put up. "Your beard is scratchy."

"And yours isn't?" Albus retorted.

Involuntarily, her hand flew up to her whiskerless chin. He lowered his gaze suggestively as she made to protest.

The scathing stare that met him when he again raised his eyes was one he often got when one of his jokes had failed to go over well.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Albus hesitated. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he knocked on the door to Minerva's chambers. Classes were over for the day and while he had seen her at lunch, he was eager to find out how the remainder of the first day of classes had gone for her and Waldorf. Despite the offer of the elves, Minerva had insisted on keeping the baby with her throughout the day.

He knew they were in there, but no one came to open the door. Albus felt a stab of fear. Even here with all the protections that the castle afforded, he worried. Shaking off his fear, he tried to tell himself that it was likely that they were just resting after their long day.

After ensuring that there was no one else around to see him do it, he spoke the password. Entering, it immediately became clear why Minerva hadn't answered. Even with her animagus enhanced hearing, there was no way she would have heard his tapping over the tempest of the baby's squalls.

Picking the baby up from the cradle in the sitting room, Albus attempted to calm him. The baby wanted no part of it.

The baby's continued cries concerned Albus less than Minerva's absence.

Returning the still wailing infant to the cradle, Albus looked into the bedroom. "Minerva?"

"Minerva!" He found her on the bed sobbing into a pillow. Albus had worried that now that classes were resuming, all of Minerva's responsibilities – the baby, teaching, and the administrative tasks she needed to handle - might be too much for one person. He never imagined though that she wouldn't last even a day. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Because _he _won't stop crying."

Sitting beside her on the bed, stroking her hair, Albus asked. "Do you think something is wrong? Shall I get Poppy?"

Minerva shook her head. "He's crying because he has a horrible mother!"

"Minerva, you know that that isn't true. He's just a baby. How would he know that you are a horrible mother?"

While his words got Minerva to look up at him, by the look on her face it was clear that he had not expressed himself to the best of his ability. Trying again, Albus assured her. "You are a wonderful moth –"

"No! I'm not!" Minerva pulled something from under the pillow. It was the baby's toy kneazle.

Comprehension – at least partial comprehension – came quickly. "He's crying because he wants his kneazle? But why not give it to him?"

Minerva had more tears in her eyes. "Because I hate it."

Albus started to chuckle. "Minerva –"

"I hate it! Hate it! Hate it!"

Seeing how troubled she was by the toy, he stopped.

"All he ever does is stare at it. He doesn't take his bloody eyes off it."

Albus had noticed that habit of the baby's, but he hadn't found it nearly as worrisome as Minerva seemed to. Albus had to wonder if her hatred of the toy wasn't simply misplaced guilt at the deception she had perpetrated upon everyone in their lives. "But if it makes him happy, is it really so awful?"

At her stony silence, he added. "Didn't you have a favorite toy as a child? A lovey?"

With a displeased expression, she finally handed the toy over to him. Minerva followed after as Albus carried the toy into the other room. As soon as the baby caught sight of it his wails subsided to a hiccup.

"See what I mean?!" Minerva insisted.

Though he thought she was making much ado about nothing, Albus tried to seem sympathetic. "It's just a phase. He'll grow out of it, I'm sure. Soon enough, it will be the girls he is staring at."

"Hopefully not as obviously as Kettleburn. Do you know I caught him trying to look down my blouse – twice – while I was trying to feed the baby?"

That would explain why Albus had seen Kettleburn groping his way around the castle like a blind man earlier that afternoon.

Seeing how Minerva's day had gone hadn't been the only purpose of his visit. Being very deliberate to not use the words 'meeting' or 'important,' Albus informed her. "I need to go to the Ministry to see Mafalda. I fear I may not be back until after you are both asleep. I wanted to wish you both a good night in case."

Part of why he had stopped by – and the cause of his hesitation – was that he wasn't sure what the living arrangements were to be now, or what the situation was in general. When Minerva was staying in his rooms he had of course stayed in his rooms with her and the baby. To have done otherwise would have aroused suspicion. Now that Minerva and the baby were moving back into her rooms, he wasn't quite sure how things stood. While not discussing recent unhappy events had avoided an awkward and painful confrontation, it had left him a bit unsure of how exactly things stood. Minerva's question to Poppy at her examination had given him hope, but whether it was just that Minerva was waiting for clearance from Poppy, or that she had been too tired from her new responsibilities, nothing of the sort that would clarify to him the nature of their relationship going forward had happened between them since the baby's arrival. Simply put, he wasn't sure if he was expected to remain in his own rooms for the night or if he was welcome in Minerva's rooms.

Minerva looked at him a moment before turning away. Sensing his hesitation and thankfully a little clearer on the situation, Minerva deemed to enlighten him. Arranging a blanket over the now content baby, she chided him. "Do be careful not to wake the baby coming to bed this time."

Relieved to have at least that part straightened out, Albus smiled.

He really did have to be going, but …"Minerva, are you sure you are all right?"

Seeming much calmer, though still hardly pleased, Minerva waved him off. "As long as that bloody kneazle is around we haven't a care in the world."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Entering Minerva's bedroom, Albus found Minerva rummaging in the closet. The baby was on the bed, dressed in his finery. Panicked at the thought that Minerva would even contemplate taking the baby out of the castle, and bracing for the inevitable argument as he tried to dissuade her, Albus tried to keep his tone light. "And what, little man, are you all dressed up for?"

As soon as she heard him, Minerva turned on him. "Albus, where is my camera? Do you realize we don't have a single picture of the baby?"

Relieved to have that for the explanation, Albus still hesitated. True they had no photographs of the baby, but at least on Albus's part that had been a deliberate decision. Not having any photographs helped to ensure that certain less than scrupulous people, such as his brother Aberforth, would be unable to take The Daily Prophet up on their offer. The bounty had recently been doubled again and now stood at a very tempting 10,000 galleons.

"I believe, my dear, that your camera was in the cottage."

"Oh." Minerva looked momentarily cross before moving on. "Well haven't you one? Do get it."

Albus thought of objecting, but he knew it wouldn't be right. They couldn't allow fear of what others might do with said photographs to keep them from documenting the various ages and stages of their son's life. Minerva would just have to be careful with what she did with them. It pained Albus to think it wasn't exactly as if he could go around displaying the photographs regardless.

Besides, chances were that someone selling photographs to the Daily Prophet – and Albus had no illusions that that wouldn't eventually happen - would simply take their own photographs.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Minerva had left him a note the night before – requesting that he wake her before leaving in the morning - but Albus just couldn't bring himself to do it. Taking his seat at the High Table and unfolding the day's newspaper, Albus was relieved that he hadn't. He never wanted her to have to see what he was seeing. The entire front page of the Prophet taken up with the announcement:

FIRST PICTURES OF THE HALF-KNEAZLE BEAST INSIDE

Tomorrow's edition

Reserve your copy today!


	36. Chapter 36

Albus saw red – and not just the blaring red of the announcement:

FIRST PICTURES OF THE HALF-KNEAZLE BEAST INSIDE

Tomorrow's edition

Reserve your copy today!

Ordinarily, Albus wasn't one for censorship, but … gasps of surprise filled the Great Hall as every copy of The Daily Prophet turned to ash.

And not a moment too soon.

Entering from a side door, Minerva beckoned him to leave the table. "Headmaster, I wondered if I could have a word with you –"

He cut her off. There was no time. "Not now!"

"Albus –"

Rising, Albus gathered everyone's attention. "On this day in history – like many other days – Wendelin the Weird was burnt at the stake. In honor of this, I am declaring a holiday. Students, you may return to your dormitories or take to the grounds. As for my Staff … _I'll see all of you in my office now … _ to discuss what else we might do to celebrate Wendelin."

As Minerva again tried to flag him down, Albus attempted to divert her. "Professor McGonagall, you need not attend. I should like you to speak to the elves about putting together a feast befitting Wendelin's accomplishments."

"What accomplishments?" Minerva asked.

Ignoring the question, Albus started towards the door.

"Burnt steak?" Minerva offered dryly to his receding form.

Albus waited until all were assembled before storming into his office. "Which one of you did it?"

No one said a word – including asking him what he was talking about. They had all seen the morning's paper.

"Unconscionable. That is the only word for it. Simply unconscionable. How could you have done something so despicable, so vile to an innocent child? Hogwarts is Minerva's home. It was supposed to be a haven for her and the baby. How could one of you have done this to her?" Albus looked about the room eyeing each in turn, trying to find some sign of guilt.

Not getting any reaction from his appeal to the perpetrator's better side, he moved on to threats. "Did the money really mean that much to you? You had better make it last because you are through teaching here!"

People were stealing glances around the room at the others. Still, no one would admit to the act.

"Confess now because if I have to find out on my own – and I will – being fired will be the least of your concerns!"

Filius spoke up tentatively. "How do you know it was one of us? Have you considered the possibility that it was a student?'

All around him, heads bobbed eagerly.

That thought hadn't occurred to him. It took a bit of the wind out of his sails. It seemed he would have to go directly to the paper to find out the identity of the traitor.

With one last glare, he warned them. "Not a word of this to Minerva."

' '''''

The Daily Prophet's editor glanced up. Seeing that it was Albus, he looked back down with a sigh. Much like everyone else that Albus had seen that day, he knew exactly what Albus was on about. "Good morning, Professor. Won't you have a seat?"

Albus remained standing. "You can_not_ run those photographs in tomorrow's edition. I demand you pull them!"

"You know I can't do that. It's a public interest story. The people have a right to know."

Albus realized that getting the photographs pulled was something of a lost cause. At the very least though, he had to find out who had betrayed them. Perhaps that person might have some standing to have the photographs pulled. "I want to know who took those photographs."

"Professor –"

Albus cut the other man off before he could even start to answer. "I demand to see the photographs now!" Perhaps something contained in the photos would reveal to him the identity of the person taking them.

To Albus's surprise, the other man readily agreed. He quickly produced from his desk a folder containing an assortment of photographs.

Albus examined them looking for clues as to where they were taken – hoping that would lead him to who had taken them. The background of the photographs - they had been taken in Minerva's bedroom. Albus was horrified to realize the photographs that the paper was planning to run were the photographs he had taken only days before.

How could this have happened? How could he have been so careless? Minerva would never forgive him!

Seeing Albus's expression, he was sympathetic. "Maybe this will help. The party selling the photographs requested I keep her information confidential, but I think in your case I can make an exception." From the bottom of the file that had contained the photographs, he pulled out a parchment.

It was, Albus realized after staring at the parchment for a moment, the standard form the Prophet used when purchasing the rights to a photograph. Suddenly, Albus felt the need for the seat earlier offered.

"She drove a very hard bargain. As I'm sure you know, the reward was at 10,000 galleons. She refused to sell for a knut less than 12,000."

Albus recognized the signature on the form. The person who had sold photographs of their child for monetary gain, the one who had betrayed them – it was Minerva!

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Returning to Hogwarts, Albus went looking for Minerva to confront her.

She found him first. "Albus, you do realize that you've managed to pick the one day of the year that Wendelin wasn't actually burnt at the stake."

Ignoring her comment, he asked. "Why? Why would you do this?"

Minerva shoulders sagged as she informed him with an almost irritated expression. "Maybe you heard, my house and everything in it burnt to the ground. Those things cost money to replace. And in case you have forgotten, homeowners insurance doesn't cover acts of God or Death Eaters."

"Money?! You did it for the money?" Albus was astounded. "If you needed money, I would have given you all that you desired! You could have had the key to my vault at Gringotts for all I cared!"

"Yes, and that wouldn't have looked the least bit suspicious. You know those goblins are worse gossips than Poppy."

Albus was left without words.

"We both knew it was only a matter of time!" The tartness of her tone lessened considerably as she went on speaking. It took on a vulnerability not many ever had the opportunity to hear. "Given the way they kept raising the reward amount, it wasn't as if no one was ever going to try to collect it. It just seemed better this way. I … I didn't want it to have to be one of our friends … or even one of our lesser enemies."

Now that he knew them, Minerva's reasons made sense; still Albus felt the need to get in one last jab. "I warned you that investing all of your money in Hummel's wasn't a sound financial plan."

Minerva gave him a withering glare.

Of course her response the next day seeing the photographs in print wasn't nearly so reserved. Albus took no small amount of satisfaction seeing her seethe at the photographs that were cropped to only show the baby's toy kneazle.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Despite the hour, Albus was still quite awake when Minerva returned to bed from the two o'clock feeding. Since his recent discovery that Voldemort had once been a student of his, Albus had been able to think of little else. As she slipped into bed beside him, he shared with her the thoughts that had been troubling him.

"It's been clear for some time now that Voldemort despises me in particular, but I still don't understand why he should feel so strongly about me. Granted, I am fond of muggleborns, muggles, and muggle things, but that doesn't seem to be cause enough for his behavior.

"I remember Tom Riddle from his school days. There was that whole affair with the chamber of secrets. Tom put the blame on Hagrid, but I didn't believe him. Though I tried to find some evidence to dispute his claims, I couldn't. On just Hagrid's word and my suspicions there was little I could do beyond trying to keep a closer eye on him in the future. Surely a few mistrustful looks on my part weren't enough to inspire all this animosity? I've been racking my brain, trying to remember if there might have been something more, but if there was, I have no idea what it might have been."

Stifling a yawn, in an even tone Minerva gave him the answer he least expected. "He was in love with you."

"What?!"

"He was in love with you. It was as clear as day to anyone who ever saw the two of you in a room together. The way his eyes lit up and his heart skipped a beat. How he kept moistening his lips again and again. Oh, and his palms would get all sweaty and –"

Realization dawned at last. "You're mocking me, aren't you?!"

"My, you are quick! When I graduated, Riddle was still a first year. What possible use could I have had for a first year? My interests have always gone in the direction of older boys."

"Boys? I wonder if I should take that as a compliment or an insult."

"Take it as it was intended."

Albus laughed. "And still I wonder if I should take it as a compliment or an insult?"

Not getting a response he returned to the more serious concern. "It's just that if I could understand that, maybe we could get some insight into why he does the things he does. And maybe from there figure out what his next move will be before he…"

Minerva seemed to be losing focus. He gave her a gentle nudge to regain her attention.

"He probably hates you because he had you for Transfiguration. You always gave too much homework. Everybody hated you for that."

"My students didn't hate me! When I taught, I was well loved by all my students!"

"Then why is it that one of them is dead set on killing you?"

"And I never gave more homework than was necessary! Transfiguration is a very difficult and dangerous subject. A thorough understanding of the theories, as well as the mechanics is essential for safety, and a heavy homework load is necessary to accomplish that. You know that perfectly well!"

Minerva shrugged. "Amelia Bones suggested it was because you weren't getting any. She said you just needed a good shag. It took some convincing, but eventually I volunteered."

"You're making that up!"

"Am I?" she replied dryly. "I seem to recall more than one returning student remarking about a drastic reduction in the number of feet of parchment required for Transfiguration lessons at the beginning of my sixth year. Do you deny that that was in any way related to the start of our relationship at the end of my fifth year? As I seem to recall, neither of us were too happy with you utilizing your every waking hour grading school parchments."

"I should like to point out that while I did ask you out at the end of your fifth year, it was at the end of your _fifth year of teaching_. And I still maintain that an additional foot of parchment -" Albus corrected himself as Minerva held up two fingers. "-an additional two feet of parchment was and is insufficient cause for all this."

"Well, what else could it be? I know - did you ever keep You-Know-Who up all night asking him pointless questions?"

"No, never -" catching on, Albus trailed off. "I take it you would like me to let you get some rest?"

"It is after two in the morning and I will need to be up again in four hours for another feeding. And by the time slow poke finishes, there won't be a point in even trying to get back to sleep. So yes, that would be lovely."

Turning off the light, Albus apologized. "You know I would do it if I could."

"I know." She gave him a light kiss before snuggling into his embrace.

He really would be quite happy to. He envied her the added bond it allowed her with their son. "If you wanted to try formula…"

"No."

"You know, it isn't as if the elves haven't offered. Perhaps you should reconsider allowing one of them to help out a bit more with some of the little-"

She didn't even let him finish before dismissing the idea. "I didn't go through all this drama and subterfuge to have a baby, only to let him be raised by an elf, thank you very much. Now what happened to the idea of stopping the questions and letting me get some sleep?"

He couldn't help himself. "Technically, my dear, the last two were merely suggestions. They were not actually phrased in question form."

He gave a little yelp as she pinched him.

"Sleep in tomorrow. I can cover your first few classes."

"Do you think that wise? You might incite another dark lord. Besides, if you are teaching my classes, who will keep all of the world from collapsing in on itself?"

"I think the world can manage to get by until ten o'clock." Seeing how absolutely exhausted she looked, he amended that. "Perhaps even eleven." He wasn't sure what magic hat he was going to pull the time out of, but…"And I'll try to do more. Perhaps I can take over baths or some such thing."

"Mmm. That would be nice. Poppy said that the baby can start on cereal soon. According to her, the cereal will take longer to digest so he should stay full longer, and therefore sleep for longer stretches. You – " She poked him for emphasis, "-can be in charge of the cereal."

"Indeed." Albus smiled. "I wonder if he will prefer Count Chocula or Boo Berry?"

"Albus!" Minerva intoned perhaps a bit too loudly as the little person in the next room began to stir.

"Now you've done it!" mocked Albus. "Which of us exactly was it that thought a baby was a good idea?"

The sounds from the next room were growing louder and more pitiful.

Minerva turned to him. "If we ignore it, do you think it will go away?"

Albus chuckled. "One can only hope."

Given the way that Minerva was covering her face with a pillow, Albus rather got the idea he had better be the one to go. "Allow me."

Walking into the nursery, Albus began to mock scold the baby. "Do you have any idea what time it is? You, young man, are supposed to be asl-" Standing over the crib, looking in, Albus stopped abruptly. Hand trembling, he cast aside the blanket that usually covered the baby, but now lay flat on the crib bottom.

The baby wasn't there. With the blanket that Hagrid had knit gone, the crib was empty but for the baby's two toy kneazles.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N Thanks M

''''''''''''

It was Voldemort - of that Albus was sure.

He had to seal off the castle. He had to seal off Voldemort's chance of escape. He couldn't allow Voldemort to get out – not with their baby. If he did, they might never see the baby again. Albus knew he had to act and act quickly, but he found himself paralyzed.

Still standing over the crib, a part of Albus's mind seemed detached from the terror consuming him. That part found it curious that Minerva would get the baby another kneazle, given how _completely _she despised the one that he already had. One of the kneazles, the new one, moved toward him. It mewed pitifully as it nipped the hand that Albus had hanging over the crib.

For nearly an eternity, all Albus could do was stare.

He tried to keep his voice even as he called to Minerva in the next room. "Minerva, you had better see this!"

"Albus, I'm not falling for that again. Change the diaper yourself."

"Would you just get in here!"

Minerva entered, huffing. "Really Albus, could you be any more –"

Albus didn't get to find out what he could possibly be any more of. She let off abruptly as she got closer.

"Did you …?"

Albus didn't bother to dignify the question with an answer. Instead, he asked one of his own. "How certain are you that he _wasn't _conceived that night in your classroom?"

"At the moment…" Biting her lip, Minerva admitted "… not very."

The kneazle – or rather the baby - was still mewing. Seeing Minerva, he became more frantic. Even as Minerva began stroking his fur, the baby kept crying. He looked bewildered.

Feeling a bit bewildered himself, Albus wondered aloud. "You don't think he's … stuck, do you?"

"Probably." Minerva frowned. "Transfiguring back isn't nearly as difficult, but I recall having trouble the first few times. I was too excited to focus properly."

There was a spell to force a transformation back, but it was hardly a pleasant experience. Albus couldn't imagine actually using it on their child. "Should one of us …"

Minerva had other thoughts.

As she transformed, the hands that she had had clenched around the crib rail leveraged her over the side of the crib. By the scruff, she picked the kitten up in her mouth and leapt back over.

Watching her trot back to the bed in the next room and deposit the kit there, Albus shrugged. Transforming, he followed after.

With Minerva curled up around him, the baby soon calmed and returned to sleep. As Minerva planned – or at least Albus wanted to believe it was a plan and not that she was too tired to try to deal with the situation at the time – in his sleep the baby reverted to his previous form..

"""""""""""

First it was too hot.

Then it was too cold.

Finally, the temperature was just right … but there was too much.

Albus wanted to do more to care for the baby both to be more involved and to lessen Minerva's responsibilities, but it simply wouldn't do to scald the baby, nor to drown him. Albus let some of the water out of the tub.

Minerva had cautioned Albus not to take the baby's diaper off until the last possible moment. Holding the baby over the finally just right in every way water, ready to lower him in, Albus took it off. As soon as the cool air hit him, the baby made a contribution to the body of liquid beneath him.

Albus held the baby suspended over the water as he pondered the situation. In Alchemy, the introduction of even a trace amount of contaminant necessitated starting over. This, however, was not a delicate potion with a need for precision and exactness. Surely such a small amount of liquid introduced to such a greater body of water would have no influence on it.

He again commenced lowering the baby into the water.

"You aren't_ really_ about to do what it looks like you are about to do?"

Turning to find Minerva framed by the doorway, he vigorously denied the allegation. "Er…no?"

In response to her scathing look, he capitulated. "I'll draw a fresh bath."

He was more than a tad offended as rather than take his word, she stood watch until he waved his hand to banish the water.

Next time, Albus resolved, he would leave the diaper on until _after_ the bath was over.

'''''''''''''''''''''

A 'coward' Minerva had once called him, and Albus was willing to admit that she was right. Entering her classroom and not seeing her, for once Albus didn't panic. He had long since given up on finding Minerva and the baby where he expected them to be. Instead, he experienced a measure of relief. While he found it odd that she would leave her students unattended – particularly during an exam – given the reason for this visit, being able to take the coward's way out and simply leave a note on her desk had a certain appeal.

No doubt little Waldorf was the cause of their nonattendance.

While Albus dearly loved their baby, he had more than a few qualms about Minerva bringing him along to her classes. The foremost of course being that the baby's presence was, if not a complete disruption to the learning that was supposed to be going on in the room, he was at best a distraction – both for Minerva and her students.

Minerva missing the exam was case in point.

They would need to have a discussion about making alternate arrangements and certainly he _should_ proctor the exam until her return … but if he stayed, he would have to give her his news in person and as he had already oh so willingly admitted, he was a coward.

The discussion could wait. The students would simply have to remain on their honor as Minerva had left them.

With a wave of his wand he had the note in hand.

Almost to her desk, he realized his mistake – she was there. It was just that he had expected to see her seated _behind_ her desk, not _on _it. The reduced size of her animagus form no doubt contributed to his having overlooked her.

The baby too was in his animagus form. By his gorged look and the way he was beginning to nod off, he appeared to have just finished a feeding. After herself transforming, Minerva helped the baby out of his animagus form. Abandoning him on the desk, she moved to a spot as distant as possible from prying ears, but still within sight to prevent wandering eyes.

In response to his inquiring look, Minerva offered. "The third years make Kettleburn seem a gentleman. They are at the stage where they want to look, but they don't yet know to try to be discreet about it."

Thus enlightened, Albus delivered his message. "I am leaving for the Ministry. Millicent has requested my legilimency skills in questioning some suspected Death Eaters."

"Doesn't the Ministry have trained Legilimens to do that?"

"Indeed." Albus nodded. "Unfortunately, as they are the people she wants questioned, it would seem counter productive to –"

Minerva waved him and the rest of his explanation off with her hand. He wished it was that easy. "There are a few matters that I will need you to attend to in my absence …"

Minerva waited expectantly.

"There is a meeting I will need you to cover …"

Her eyebrow went up as he finally began to elaborate. "… It's with the Board of Governors."

Albus was happy to have the students present as it required Minerva to temper her response. "_That _might be a meeting best rescheduled."

Albus remained apologetic. "It already has been … twice. When I attempted to reschedule again, Figg suggested the Board was capable of making the necessary decisions without my input."

Minerva pursed her lips, but held her tongue.

Happy to have made it thus far without injury, Albus continued. "There are also the monthly requisition forms. I've already been through the requests that were turned in, but I need you to track down the usual hold outs."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "Merlin forbid Filius get his form in on time or manage to make the twelve dozen feathers he received this month suffice another month. What the devil does he do to go through so many?"

"Yes, well …" Albus shrugged as Minerva went on speaking.

"_Even _Kettleburn manages to get his requests in on time."

Kettleburn – as always – was the first to be ready with his list of wants. It was the only form Kettleburn ever could manage to get in on schedule. Albus had already taken it upon himself to deny all of Kettleburn's requests. "Yes, Kettleburn is very good at having his hand out."

Minerva snorted.

Going on, Albus cringed internally – not so much for the actual task, but for piling them up on her. "Speaking of Kettleburn, there also seems to be a problem with the house elves. Kettleburn claims they have been doing things to his food."

"And you would take his word over that of the elves?"

Having kipped a biscuit from Kettleburn's desk and had an elf appear out of nowhere to prevent him from taking a bite… "I haven't actually spoken to any of the elves about the matter yet, but yes, I do believe there to be a problem."

Minerva shrugged indifferently. "Any problem between Kettleburn and the house elves can easily be solved by telling Kettleburn to stop trying to look under their tea towels. Did I ever tell you what his idea of a romantic date was?"

Albus wasn't looking to change the topic – really he wasn't – but even if his earlier impression of the state of affairs in Minerva's classroom had been wrong, he still had reservations about Minerva bringing the baby along to her classes.

He really thought that he should say something as two girls approached Minerva's desk to turn in their exams and began to fawn over the again awake baby, but he held his tongue. Even as one picked up Waldorf and began rocking him cheek to cheek, he said nothing. However, when she articulated her desire for one to the other girl - well, Albus felt that he had no choice but to speak.

"There are certain things that the Board may have been right about. Your classroom is not the best –"

Giving Albus her most scathing look, Minerva flicked her wand ever so slightly.

The third year holding Waldorf screeched as both ends of the baby simultaneously erupted. Albus had to move quickly to keep Waldorf from hitting the ground as the girl decided she no longer wished to hold the baby and simply let go.

Reaching out to reclaim the baby, Minerva prompted him smugly. "You were saying?"

Lest he be the recipient of that same spell, Albus decided to say no more on the topic ... ever.

Feeling guilt-ridden both that he would yet again not be there to help with the baby and because he had yet again added on considerably to Minerva's undertakings for the day, Albus considered making a suggestion.

He hesitated, but after informing her that she would have to attend a Board of Governor's meeting, it wasn't as if he could put her in any worse of a mood. "I appreciate that you don't want any outside help with the baby, but what about with administrative tasks? Since you keep getting saddled with what would ordinarily be my responsibilities, would you consider allowing Filius to take on some of yours?"

Given her attitude up until then, Minerva's response was better than he could have hoped for. For a long moment, she met not his eyes, but those of the baby. Finally, she responded. "I'll think about it."

'''''''''''''''''''''''''

"Filius, I wanted to discuss something with you. I feel that Minerva is being saddled with too many responsibilities. Her classes combined with her positions as Head of Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress are more than enough for one person to begin with. Lately with me being away so much of the time because of Voldemort, a number of my responsibilities have fallen on her shoulders as well. Then of course there is the new baby needing so much of her time.

"Short of a time turner, I'm not entirely clear how she has managed this long, but I fear if she doesn't start getting some assistance, my deputy is headed for a collapse. That is why I have come to you."

Filius stood tall…ish. "I would be delighted to offer my assistance."

Albus smiled. "Excellent. I had a few ideas on which administra-"

Ever excitable, Filius didn't appear to hear him. "- I can look after the baby in the afternoons."

Albus tried to interrupt, but Filius, busy detailing all his planned adventures, seemed not to notice.

"I can take him for walks on the grounds and the gardens. Teach him to fetch – er play ball. He can climb the whomping willow."

"-Filius-"

Flitwick's brow furrowed in concentration. "We haven't any real lawn gnomes in the gardens, but the house elves could pretend to be lawn gnomes!"

"Filius!" Having finally succeeded in getting the Charms professor's attention, Albus made himself more clear. "I want you to take over some of Minerva's responsibilities as Deputy Headmistress."

Filius looked ready for a fight. "You're trying to demote her again! I'll have no part of it!"

Again Albus had to struggle to regain the other man's attention. "No! I want you to be co-deputies! Just temporarily. Since Minerva has had to take over some of my duties, I thought that you could take over some of hers."

An unenthused, "Oh," was Filius's only response.

"You could run some of the staff meetings, handle some of the disciplining …" Albus saw that Filius didn't look nearly so enthralled with this idea. "… make the patrolling schedule, arrange the meal menus with the elves-"

"I could bring Waldorf with me to the kitchens! He could chase the elves there!"

"Ah … no."

Filius was still scheming. "Minerva already does all those things so well, so efficiently. I think it would be a far better, far more efficient use of everyone's time if I took Waldorf for a few hours each day to give her the time she needs to complete-"

Albus again interrupted him. "There is a stipend involved."

"When do I start?"

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Albus went off in search of Minerva to tell her the news. He found her in his bedroom nursing the baby.

Usually she was very discreet when she fed him; she parted her outer robes and lifted her blouse just enough for the baby to latch on. But not today. Today she wore no robes and the dress she did wear had been unbuttoned far enough down to slip from her shoulders leaving her entirely nude above the waist.

It was the first time that Albus had seen her this disrobed since … well since before the baby. Pregnancy and months of breast feeding had left their effects on her body. Her breasts were fuller, rounder in an almost Rubenesque way. That there were scars there, never even entered his mind. Her whole body had a more curved – a softer – look to it. He wondered if touching her, she would feel any softer than she had before.

The baby was in her arms, happily dozing at her breast. Together, they made for a breathtaking sight. If he were an artist it would have had him off in search of a canvas.

And yet, as much as the sight warmed his heart, it left a part of it wanting. They looked so content together, just the two of them. It was as if they had no need of him.

Taking notice of his arrival, Minerva hastily readjusted the garment.

Patting the space beside her on the bed, she played his part as the legilimens and gave him something to do to feel more involved. "Come tickle his toes to keep him awake."

Happily, he did as he was told. Albus adored the annoyed looks the baby gave his way as he kept trying to kick away Albus's hand. "I spoke to Filius. He's agreed to take on a few more responsibilities."

Minerva nodded, but said nothing. He knew agreeing to relinquish any of her duties hadn't been a light decision for her. And for that he was mostly to blame. Had he not made certain comments in the past …

Still, he was elated that she had agreed. Though he had lobbied the idea, he hadn't really expected her to consent. That she had so readily agreed had surprised him greatly. He suspected that what had convinced her was his request that she allow it for his sake. Minerva allowing someone else to take on her less critical tasks afforded both more time for her to take on some of Albus's tasks and simply more time for her. It helped to keep to a minimum his feelings of self-reproach for needing her assistance and of course any theoretical leisure time Albus gained was time that he could spend with her and the baby.

He was enjoying their quiet family time when Minerva again spoke. "Albus…"

"Mmm…"

"Albus, I want another baby."

"What's wrong with the one we have now?"

Minerva stared at him as if he were the dullard that he was. "_I meant_ another baby in addition to the one we have now."

"Oh…"

Another baby? That wasn't possible. It would never work. She had to know that. It was far too dangerous. They had gotten away with it once, but how gullible could they really expect people to be? How did Minerva plan to explain another baby? She had already exhausted people's faith in and goodwill toward her with the first pregnancy. Any attempts at a similarly flimsy cover story would be summarily dismissed. To even attempt it would cast doubt back on to the first pregnancy. The revelation of Waldorf's marvelous new ability had silenced the last of her detractors. Things were finally settling down for them. Another baby would put the baby they already had under scrutiny again.

The truth would come out – he just knew it would. He could just imagine how betrayed their friends would feel. Hagrid, Filius, Poppy, Alastor – all of the people who had supported Minerva through her 'ordeal' would turn against them.

And there was Minerva's reputation to be considered - not to mention her career. The discovery of a Death Eater amongst them had, at the time, put an end to the Board of Governors discussion of discharging Minerva. Desiring to catch Minerva away from the protections afforded by the castle and tired of waiting for her to leave of her own accord, Voldemort had taken it upon himself to recruit someone in a position to hasten her departure from Hogwarts. Wanting to avoid coming under suspicion themselves, the remaining Board members had fallen over themselves trying to distance themselves from the idea. Even Stansworthy had tried to suggest that it hadn't been his idea. He was only pursuing the matter, unwillingly, at the Death Eater's request – or such was his claim. Only Figg had stood true to his beliefs, such as they were, and continued attempting to dismiss Minerva from Hogwarts. Another baby would certainly renew the interest of the others.

The threat of Voldemort was still hanging over them. Another baby would be one more person to worry endlessly for. Voldemort –

The baby again kicked him. "… All right."

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

It was said that when Alexander the Great and his armies set out to destroy a city, they would be so thorough as to leave no two stones touching – making it all the more difficult to rebuild. Looking about the room, Albus had to wonder about what titles the future might hold for his son. If not Great, perhaps Conqueror or Destroyer. Waldorf the Wicked also seemed to hold great promise.

Albus had taken it upon himself to arrange a Waldorf free evening for Minerva and himself. He thought that they could use the few hours of quiet, interruption free time to talk about Minerva's recent request – perhaps even to get started on it.

It had been so long since they had been together intimately – not since the night they had conceived Waldorf. That had been well over a year ago and though he was entirely enamored with the result, it could hardly be called one of his better performances. For Minerva, he wanted tonight to be everything that that night wasn't.

While Albus had foreseen that the baby's presence would not be conducive to his plans for the evening, he hadn't realized how unconducive the baby's presence would be to his making plans for the evening.

Having discovered that the limitations on his mobility weren't so limiting outside of his human form, the baby had lately taken to spending a greater part of his time in his half-kneazle animagus form. As Albus went about the room lighting votives at varying degrees of height, the baby gave chase both to Albus and the shadows flickering on the walls. Before finally giving up on the idea of the understated lighting, Albus had to extinguish the baby's tail - twice.

No sooner had Albus set a bottle of wine and glasses on the table; than the baby was there to knock them over. Thankfully, the baby managed to avoid the shards, but as for the wine – not so much. He seemed to take great delight in splashing his paws in the pooled liquid and even greater delight in trailing it about the room as Albus tried to catch him.

At least the flowers that Albus had collected from the green houses while Sprout was otherwise engaged had survived – in a form. Originally arranged in an elegant bouquet far out rivaling the one that Alastor had given to Minerva the year before, the petals were now stripped from their stems. The petals had been scattered about the room so thoroughly by the baby that once Albus discarded the gnawed upon stems, it almost seemed intended.

At last succeeding in catching the scampering kitten, Albus held him up to eye level to reprimand him. Immobilized anyway, the baby transfigured to his true state – or at least what Albus sincerely hoped was his true state.

Apparently not immobilized enough, the baby leaned forward to nip Albus's nose.

It wasn't the first time that the baby had done so. Minerva was forever trying to correct him. As the baby had no teeth yet and it didn't hurt, Albus, on the other hand, saw no reason to discourage the habit.

Instead, with a chuckle he planted a kiss on the baby's nose. "I certainly hope you will be better mannered tonight with Poppy and Filius."

Wanting to spend a little longer with the baby but hoping to do it in a place where he needn't concern himself over what else the baby might decide to conquer, Albus made a suggestion. "What say you to the idea of going out into the gardens for a bit before I turn you over?"

Albus wondered – if only briefly – whether his chuckling had sent the wrong message as in response to the question Waldorf again attempted to lean forward and bite him.

Banishing the broken glass and the wine prints, he waltzed the baby from the room.

Returning a short time later, he found the petals also banished and Minerva already at her desk, a sheaf of papers before her.

Looking up, she frowned. "Where's the baby?"

"Poppy has him."

Alarmed, Minerva stood.

Albus hastened to correct himself. "Actually, at the moment, Filius would still have him. I requested Poppy and Filius take turns looking after him for the night."

The degree of apprehension in her look lessened, but she still seemed puzzled. "Whatever for?"

"I just thought you could use an uninterrupted evening of …" Albus felt awkward. He had hoped that she would be enthused by the prospect. He certainly hadn't hoped that he would have to spell it out for her. "… sleep … or whatnot."

"You know that same end could have been achieved by _you_ getting up with him."

"Indeed." Her words had come out slightly tart, but Albus didn't get the idea that she was being deliberately obtuse. Still, could one ever really tell with her?

He tried again. "About what you said yesterday – I thought that we might be able to use the time to talk … or whatnot."

_Oh._ Minerva's lips formed the word, but she didn't actually give voice to it. When she finally spoke, what she actually said was - "It's a bit early, don't you think?"

Not wanting her to see his expression, Albus turned to the still sunlit window.

Minerva must have mistaken the gesture for she continued. "That's to say, it's too soon. With Waldorf still nursing so much, it would be difficult to get pregnant again at the moment. We'll need to wait until he weans."

Albus was confused – about so many things. "Then why bring it up?"

Minerva sounded almost amused. "Well given how long it took you to come around to the idea last time, I thought you would take some time to convince."

Struggling to make his tone seem casual and unconcerned, Albus finally gave voice to the question that had been beleaguering him since even before Minerva's recent request.

"And would that be the only reason you would want to make love with me anymore?"

While Albus had once upon a time heard Minerva question Poppy on when it might be possible to resume certain activities, that had been many moons ago and certain activities had yet to be resumed. They shared a bed at night and certainly they were affectionate in private, embracing and sharing the occasional kiss, but that was the extent of their physical intimacy. With all that was going on in their lives – the baby, the school, and Voldemort to name but a few – Albus hadn't found many suitable opportunities to attempt to initiate more – times when the baby was sleeping or otherwise engaged and one or more of them were not in a state beyond exhausted - but the few times that he had, Minerva had always, ever so subtly, rebuffed his attempts. She, herself, had never made any attempts to initiate anything.

Turning back to look at her, Albus found that now Minerva was unable to meet his eyes.

Her eyes were closed, her expression seemed almost pained. The way she cringed and crossed her arms, it seemed very much as though she would like nothing better than to crawl out of her skin. It took several minutes for her to again find words and when she did, they came out alternatively halting and rushed. Given all that had transpired over the last year, Albus could hardly pretend that he was surprised by Minerva's answer – still, hearing her say the words was devastating.

"Albus, certain things aren't the way that they used to be and I've begun to fear that they won't ever be the same again."


	38. Chapter 38

A/N Thanks M.

I'm oot for the next week, but I'll try to put up the rest when I get back.

"""

"Albus, certain things aren't the way that they used to be and I've begun to fear that they won't ever be the same again."

It wasn't the one that he had wanted, but now he had his answer.

Only half listening as Minerva, her voice uncharacteristically hesitant, went on, Albus cursed himself for having put her on the spot like that. Who ever it was who said that not knowing was worse than knowing didn't know anything. The only thing that he would like more than to take back the question, would be to take back all of the things that he had said and done to dispel the affection that Minerva had once had for him.

"I'm not an idealist. I knew it would take time, but I thought that once the baby was born things would start to go back to the way that they once were." The hands in Minerva's lap fidgeted as she sighed and added, "They haven't."

"But they still could! Things can still get back to the way they were!" Less tenaciously, he pleaded, "Can't they?"

Eyes downcast, she continued wringing her hands, but said nothing more.

Albus didn't know what to think or feel.

Catching her gaze as she attempted to steal a glance at his reaction, he implored her. "Is there no hope? Surely you haven't given up entirely – have you?"

Minerva blinked. "It's not as if I haven't tried."

By her tone, Albus had the idea that his reaction seemed to surprise, even disappoint her. He couldn't imagine what kind of a reaction Minerva had been hoping for. Did she think that he should have more clearly seen this coming?

"So that's it then? You're done?"

Minerva seemed hurt by the vehemence of his response. "I'm not sure what more I can do right now."

Her comments – 'It's not as if _I _haven't tried' and 'I'm not sure what more _I_ can do right now' _- _was he to take them to mean that she thought that _he _hadn't been trying? Was there something more that he could be doing?

He asked her. "What can _I_ do to change your mind?"

That won him a frown. "Albus, it isn't my mind that has changed and needs changing back … it's my body."

He knew she was right. It was her heart that he had turned against him all those months ago. He knew it was all his own doing, still what she had done to him these last few months wasn't fair – she had allowed him to hope. She had allowed him to believe that things would be all right despite his many, many missteps.

He beseeched her. "Certainly_ everything_ can't be different?"

Getting only a sigh in response caused him to take a less reconciliatory tone. "You were the one that said the past was done with!"

"Albus, what are you getting on about? Do try to stay on topic."

If nothing else, her sharp response gave him pause. "So what _isn't_ the way it used to be?"

Not saying a word, Minerva glared at him.

At a loss, Albus too went silent. That served only to make her angrier.

"Don't pretend you haven't noticed, Albus! I've gained enough weight to be able to raid Binns's cupboard for clothes!"

That was an exaggeration and an extreme one to be sure, but finally something clicked. Still, Albus had had enough. He had to be sure of his situation. "So just to be entirely clear – we haven't been intimate the past several months because during the course of the pregnancy that provided us with the little imp that we both adore beyond all reason, you gained enough weight to be mistaken in passing for Binns, but …" Albus paused to be certain he had this last part perfectly clear "… you have _not_ stopped loving me?"

"I think I might have with that Binns comment." Minerva offered dryly.

"You said it first!"

"That's hardly the point!"

On a slightly different note, Albus had to ask. "Do you really think that I would care? Do you really think me that shallow?"

Minerva snapped at him. "Oh for Merlin's sake! Must you make everything be about you?"

When he failed to respond, she clarified. "_I'm_ that shallow."

"Oh!"

Foundering in the silence that followed, Albus grasped for something, anything to do or say. His gaze fell upon Minerva's recently abandoned parchments. "As my plans for the evening seem to have fallen through, may I offer my assistance in grading your papers?"

Not getting a response, he feebly offered. "Or perhaps I could interest you in a game of chess?"

While that got him a response, it was merely an exaggerated eye roll.

With a glance to the window where the light was waning, but still quite present, Minerva made a suggestion. "Can I presume that along with arranging childcare, you have cleared your schedule all the way through until the morning?"

At his nod of affirmation, she continued. "Can I also presume that you have arranged dinner?"

Albus said nothing, but with the flick of his wand the nearby table was set - complete with the meal that he had had the elves specially prepare and a replacement bottle of wine.

Eyeing the bottle, Minerva made a suggestion. "It is early yet. Before we resort to chess, why don't we just open the wine and just see where the evening takes us?"

From her look to the window, Albus inferred, correctly, that this time her 'early' did refer to the hour. It seemed her newly developed sense of modesty desired the cover of darkness before anything of the unseemly variety might or might not happen.

Albus smiled. "You are right. There is no need to rush anything." Or anyone. "We may not have all the time in the world, but we certainly have all of tonight."

He knew he had answered correctly by the change in her body language. As she took a seat on the sofa, she seemed more relaxed than she had been at any previous point in their conversation.

Though the silence that ensued was not at all awkward as it had been mere moments before, Albus still felt the need to fill the silence. Taking a seat bedside her, conversationally, he inquired. "Did you happen to see the article in today's Prophet?"

She gave him a look of annoyance, one appropriate to his having mentioned the paper-that-shall-not-be-named in her presence. "I don't read that_ rag_."

"Ah yes." Albus acknowledged his gaffe. "There was the most interesting article though …"

When he neglected to elaborate, Minerva prompted him. "About?"

"Did you know that there is to be a total solar eclipse?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "When?"

Taking out his wand, Albus answered. "Now."

While he could have done without the cushion to his face, the warm breath of her amused laughter on his neck, he could not.

"""

For the past sixteen years, Albus had been in the habit of watching Minerva drift off to sleep in his arms after they had made love. While not as much as the activities that preceded it, he enjoyed the quiet moments, the blissful expression of her face, the satiated feel of her body against him, and the occasional purring. To him, it had become something of a package deal.

But not tonight. While she certainly seemed to have enjoyed their activities, afterwards she seemed almost restless.

Fairly confident of what the problem was, he waited a few minutes to see if she would settle. He could tell that she was trying, but something was missing. He felt it too.

Slightly amused, he again kissed her. "Shall we go get him?"

Looking slightly abashed, Minerva nodded.

Earlier, while in the moment, she seemed to have forgotten to be modest, but now that the moment had passed, she seemed to recall her newfound modesty. Albus shook his head, but refrained from commenting as she turned to shield her body from his view as she dressed.

Given their early start, the hour was still early. Filius would not yet have turned the baby over to Poppy for the evening. Making himself invisible, Albus accompanied Minerva to Filius's rooms.

Albus thought that the mouse tied to a stick that Filius tried to hide behind his back was the reason Minerva thanked her fellow professor so curtly for watching the baby. On the way back to her rooms, he discovered otherwise.

"Don't let Filius watch the baby again."

Not thinking it through that he was invisible, Albus turned to her with his eyebrows raised.

He was preparing to make himself and his questioning eyebrows visible when without prompting she went on. "The man is a lush! The baby reeks of wine just from having been in the room with him!"

Murmuring what he hoped sounded like adequate outrage, Albus decided to remain invisible, lest his expression give away his guilt.

"""

Seated at his desk, Albus cringed as Minerva again uttered a curse loudly enough to be heard through the door and down the staircase. His thought a few weeks earlier that perhaps he was erring in not discouraging the baby's attempts to nip had been right.

Now that the baby's teeth had started to come in, the habit was no longer amusing or harmless.

Albus had been the victim several times now, but as the one attempting to put a part of her anatomy in the vicinity of those new teeth multiple times a day, Minerva was bearing the brunt of the problem.

He was just thinking that if this was to keep up, he would have to reapply the muffling charms to the doors and walls when the door to the upstairs slammed.

Hearing the click of Minerva's heels on the stairs, Albus attempted to look busy instead of guilty. Failing at both, he soon found Minerva thrusting the baby upon him.

Conjuring a bottle, she half-shouted at the baby. "You're weaned!"

Albus shrugged to the baby as they watched Minerva stomp out the door.

"""

Arthur Weasley remembered all too well the last time Professor McGonagall had paid a visit to his office in the Magical Law Enforcement Department. Try as he might, he couldn't will himself to forget.

She had arrived with another professor as escort then too. While Professor McGonagall had taken the seat he offered, Professor Kettleburn had preferred to remain standing … as close to the door as possible.

The picture of innocence back then, Arthur had politely asked. "What can I do for you today, Professors?"

"How to begin?" Professor McGonagall had taken a deep breath before embarking on a fanciful tale. "You see, late one night the month before last …"

As Professor McGonagall had gone on talking – in between bouts of laughter – Arthur had nodded and smiled. Trying not to keep looking at his watch, he had waited for the punch line. The way she couldn't keep herself together, he knew it had to be a good one.

Arthur looked to Professor Kettleburn leaning against the door frame. He looked bored – even annoyed. The older man, Arthur supposed, had already heard the story.

As Arthur waited and waited his smile became fixed and artificial. Gradually, he began to wonder if it truly was laughter that she was struggling to hold in each time she covered her face with her hands and her shoulders shook. He looked to the other man for guidance, but Professor Kettleburn refused to meet his eyes.

Arthur waited and waited, but the funny part didn't come. Eventually, his smile began to fail.

But if it wasn't a joke, Arthur couldn't for the life of him figure out why she would be telling him of all people this – until she got to the end.

Given that Arthur still didn't consider himself over the shock of it all, he couldn't imagine that she was. He didn't doubt that her visit today had something to do with it. Was she here to berate the Ministry, through him, for their lack of progress in her case?

Or did she come to seek an investigation into the identity of the person who had sold the pictures of her baby to the Daily Prophet. True, that edition had run months ago, but Arthur couldn't think of any other reason for her presence before him in his office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Confident that that had to be it, he spared her from having to ask. "Professor, the very day that those photos were published, we opened an investigation. I went to the offices of the Prophet myself, but I'm afraid they weren't very helpful. Without their cooperation, I don't believe we will be able to determine who it was that leaked those photographs. Perhaps, if you were to go yourself and make a direct ap -"

Professor McGonagall interrupted him. "That's not why I'm here."

"No?" Arthur asked hesitantly.

She shook her head.

Arthur looked to Professor Dumbledore. As when he had tried to look to Professor Kettleburn for help, he found none. Busy bouncing the 'baby' – who incidentally looked nothing like his photograph - on his knee, Professor Dumbledore avoided his gaze. So as not to stare at the 'baby,' Arthur kept his gaze fixed on Professor McGonagall.

Trying not to think of the similarities between this meeting and the last, he forced himself to ask. "So what is it that I can do for you today, Professor?"

Her words came out so casually. "It's happened again."

Truly horrified, Arthur exclaimed. "More pictures have been taken!"

"No ..."

Mollified, but confused, Arthur asked. "What's happened again?"

Too demure to answer, with a tilt of her head, Professor McGonagall indicated Professor Dumbledore.

It took a no longer so innocent Arthur a moment to realize that it wasn't Professor Dumbledore that she was indicating. In that moment, he also realized that he simply had to get out of this department.

"""

"Finished?" Albus inquired. He honestly couldn't conceive of the idea that there could be more to come.

Minerva groaned miserably in response, but at least she had stopped retching.

Rising from the uncomfortable tile floor, Albus offered Minerva his hand and a suggestion. "Go lie down. Rest while Waldorf is napping."

Minerva took neither. "I have the fifth years after lunch and I haven't even started correcting their exams yet."

"It can't wait?"

Minerva started to shake her head. Just that small amount of movement proved too much. Returning to his earlier position holding her hair out of the way, with a pang of guilt Albus wondered if the morning sickness had been this bad with the first pregnancy.

"Will it really kill them to have to wait an extra day for the results? You need your rest. Forget the exams."

At the sound of stirrings in the next room, he put her hair into a clumsy braid that would offer the same service that he had just been providing – albeit in a much less personal way. "I'll go take care of Waldorf. You take care of yourself and …" he put a hand on the barely existent swell of her middle. Neglecting her mouth, he placed a kiss upon her hand before transfiguring into his animagus form.

Exiting the washroom, Albus found Waldorf already waiting at the door. Not content to wait for Albus or Minerva to come and collect him from his crib, Waldorf had transfigured into his animagus form and climbed out.

To prevent him from looking for and disturbing Minerva, Albus attempted to draw their young son into one of their favorite games - hide and seek.

Despite having mastered the animagus transformation at such a young age, Waldorf's mastery of most other things wasn't nearly so … masterful. After counting, Albus was quickly able to locate Waldorf given that the child always hid in the same spot.

It now his turn to hide, Albus followed the edge of the room on the way to the spot behind the wingchair. Passing the once again charmed door, Albus heard it click open. He would need to relatch it, but it would have to wait. He could hear Waldorf prowling about, seeking Albus's hiding spot. Even the slightest movement would give away his location.

A moment later Albus mock yelped as Waldorf discovered his hiding spot and leapt on top of him. After a brief tussle to get the baby off of him, Albus tried to send Waldorf off for a turn at hiding. Instead with a bang, Albus found himself helpless, dangling upside down in mid air.

"You!" Alastor roared.

Albus' yelping sounds seemed to have alarmed Alastor – the auror had entered the already opened door without knocking and with his wand at the ready. Still, whatever Alastor had expected to find upon entering, this was clearly not it.

Unsure yet how or even whether to attempt to explain or defend himself, Albus remained in his kneazle form.

Minerva called out from the next room. "Darling, I think I _will_ go lay down for a bit, but do come get me if – " Finally entering the room and noticing Moody's presence, Minerva broke off. "Oh! Alastor!"

Minerva looked from Alastor to him, dangling in mid air, and then back to Alastor. "Alastor, I can explain."

Minerva _said_ that she could explain, but after saying that, she offered nothing further.

Watching her gaze again shift, Albus realized that she was trying to remember if in speaking she had referred to Albus by name or not – the better to formulate an explanation.

Oblivious to the change of atmosphere in the room, and taking advantage of Albus's situation,, Waldorf leapt into the air repeatedly, attempting to capture the poof on the end of Albus' tail.

In the end, Alastor spared her from having to say anything at all.

As Minerva scooped Waldorf up and tenderly tried to contain him, Alastor - his expression contorting back and forth between disappointment and revulsion - spoke.

"You didn't have to lie. You could have told me. I can't say I would have understood, but … you didn't have to lie to me."

Finally interrupting the awkward silence, Alastor motioned toward the door. "I should …"

Before Minerva could think to say a word, Alastor released his suspension spell and left.

"""

"Damn her! I take back what I said about goblins being worse gossips than Poppy."

While Albus agreed, right now standing over the basin of the pensieve was hardly the time to be worrying about Poppy.

To stave off trouble since Poppy had let slip that Minerva's half-kneazle-to-be had the same father as the half-kneazle she already had, Minerva had decided to voluntarily submit a record of the memory of the two incidents to the Ministry. Given Minerva's forethought in the matter, collecting the memories wouldn't be too difficult. They didn't have to fabricate anything – just very carefully truncate the memories. Besides satisfying the suspicion and curiosity of … well everybody, it would hopefully take care of the renewed interest of a certain member of the Board of Governors.

"What was she thinking –"

Albus scolded Minerva as she again lost focus while thinking about Poppy. "- Concentrate! This has to seem seamless!"

"Tampering with evidence?"

So wrapped up were they in what they were trying to accomplish, neither had noticed the opening of the door.

Or as the newly arrived Figg so aptly put it, "Thick as thieves, you two always seem to be."

"I'll just be going then." Watching Kettleburn slink back out of the room, Dumbledore made a mental note to change the password to his office and this time _not_ to include it in the weekly staff memorandum.

Figg wagged a finger in Minerva's direction. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

"Lovely." Minerva dryly shot back. "Tell me, did you think of that all by yourself?"

"Laugh all you like. By this time next week, you will be lucky to be out on the streets and not in Azkaban." Savoring the moment, Figg paused before delivering his next words. "You are to be brought before the Wizengamot."

Figg proffered a sealed envelope that Albus immediately recognized as an official Wizengamot summons.

Though he was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, this was the first that Albus was hearing of it. While he understood the logic of not including him in the handling of a case involving a member of the staff at his school, he didn't have to like it.

Stepping forward to take the parchment for Minerva, Albus demanded. "On what grounds?"

"Filing a false report." Figg grinned smugly. "Reporting a crime that never happened actually_ is_ a crime. Now tell me, Albus, what makes you care so bloody much? I mean, doctoring memories? That is beneath even you."

Albus attempted what little damage control he could muster. "Whatever you think you might have overheard, I was merely assisting Professor McGonagall in collecting her memories."

Figg's gaze traveled back and forth between the two. "Of course if the kneazle story is codswallop – and we all know it is – that leaves the question of just who is the father of the little mongrels. Maybe you have a more vested interest in the situation than I thought?"

Lest he say something ill advised, Albus kept his defense simple. "Mongrels are dogs. Now I suggest you leave while you are still able to of your own volition."

Satisfied that he was close to getting what he wanted, Figg offered no resistance – just a parting warning. "Oh and Dumbledore, don't even bother getting out your alchemy set – I'll be providing the Veritaserum."

Figg's ranting had wandered so close to the truth, Albus found himself at a loss for words.

Minerva shrugged off the visit - or at least attempted to. Her voice lacked its usual confidence. "Veritaserum … well, it's hardly unexpected. We'll be fine. I have it all worked out. It's simply a matter of making sure that the questions are phrased the right way."

Genuinely curious, Albus asked. "How are you going to manage to do that?"

Minerva frowned. "Well, I haven't exactly worked that part out yet."

After a pause she asked. "Any ideas?"

"No." Albus admitted.

Minerva waved a hand dismissively, trying to hide her nervousness. "No matter."

Silence ensued as they both pondered their quandary seeking a solution.

"What about Alastor?"

"What about Alastor?" Minerva repeated his words back to him.

"He already knows … some things. If we were to ask, perhaps there is something that he could do to intercede? Try to switch the Ver-"

"- No." Minerva shook her head. "This is our mess and I won't drag Alastor into it … besides everyone knows about his feelings for me and how close he is with you. With you publicly supporting me on the matter, people might be expecting him to try to intercede. If he were to try anything like that, he'd be likely to get caught. No, we'll have to find our own way out of this."

It was Albus who finally broke the silence that they again fell into. "Let's get married!"

"What?"

"Let people think or say whatever they like – to hell with them all." Albus took her hand in his and repeated. "Let's get married."

Minerva looked first dumbstruck, then horrified. She pulled her fingers from his grasp. "Have you lost what little sense you ever had?"

When ever before Albus had envisioned asking Minerva for her hand in marriage, this had not have been the response that he had envisioned. Still, he took it in stride. "Perhaps."

Minerva seemed not to be taking his suggestion nearly as well. "Have you forgotten the reasoning behind this little charade? Do you think that this was all done for your amusement?"

Her berating of him grounded him … somewhat. "What about a secret marriage? We could have a very intimate ceremony – just you and I, Waldorf, perhaps Alastor and Poppy as our two witnesses – well perhaps not Poppy, but - "

Rather than be delighted by the prospect, Minerva became angry … or was it frightened? Her voice went up several octaves. "- Two witnesses too many!"

Albus frowned. "It not as if I suggested inviting Aberforth." Even he realized that that was out of the question. While he had no fears about Aberforth betraying them to Voldemort, Albus also had no doubt that for two sickles and a knut Aberforth would cheerfully sell them out to The Daily Prophet. "Surely you don't think Alastor or Poppy would sell us out to Voldemort?"

"_It would get out!" _

While Albus didn't think that even Poppy would be so careless as to let slip so dangerous a bit of knowledge, he had to admit that this particular tidbit – a factoid that would certainly trump whatever gossip anyone else could bring to the table – would be sorely tempting. Still … "Minerva, I think it could be done. I really do."

She backed away from him as if this particular madness of his might be contagious. "We both know, somehow, someway _it would get out_!"

He knew she was right. Poppy and Alastor were two of their dearest friends right now, but circumstances changed. Who knew what the future might hold for either of them?

If ever either were in danger what choices might they make in a moment of desperation? Certainly the two were no longer an item, but that wasn't to say that one or both couldn't go on to have children with someone else. And if Voldemort and his followers should ever arrive at their doorstep in the night, what then? Albus could hardly expect their loyalty to him to outweigh that for their own family.

A betrayal need not even be deliberate. Voldemort was a Legilimens - if Moody were ever captured – not an unheard of possibility given his line of work – what secrets might he unwillingly be made to share?

And it was hardly as if Voldemort was the only Legilimens out there. The Ministry had in its employ an entire department - albeit a small one recently made all the more smaller by the transferring of two members to Azkaban on Albus' say so. The skill was a difficult one, but not an impossible one. How many other people, unknown to him, had managed to master it?

She was right. A marriage here before their friends wasn't possible. Still, Albus found himself unable to give up the idea entirely. "What about a secret _muggle_ marriage? You know, I've heard of a place in the Americas where you can get married without ever leaving your automobile.

She was adamant. "No!"

He tried to reason with her. "I know it seems lately as if Voldemort's spies are everywhere, but really, what are the chances that they would be in Nevada of all places?"

Minerva was beginning to sound desperate. "Albus no!"

"Doesn't a part of you want the world to know? Isn't there some small part that wants, if not everyone, then at least someone, somewhere to know that I love you and that these are the children that we have created together?"

Still, with that one word, she persisted. "No!"

Into his sullen silence, she added. "Albus, please be sensible! We've talked of this before. We agreed that it can never happen!"

"Never." He repeated dully.

Minerva sighed. "Maybe not never, but …" Minerva trailed off, unable to offer a timeline.

He knew it wasn't the case, but he still had to ask. "It's not that you wouldn't marry me now? Not if I asked you a hundred times?"

Returning to him, she laid her hands on either side of his face. "Oh Albus, no! It's not that!"

Tearfully, she finally admitted. "I'm frightened, Albus. I'm so very frightened. You were right. Everything you said before – _you were right_. It would provoke _him; he_ would see it as a challenge to get to us. At the time, I thought it wouldn't matter, that we would do what we needed to do to protect our children, but now – now that we have them I see that you were right. I love you. I do – you know that, but I can't abide even the thought of anything happening to them. I could never do anything that would put our children at risk."

What Minerva said, it was prudent. He knew she was right. It made sense and yet, it hurt that she didn't think that he could keep her and their children safe – even if it was true.

"You don't trust that I could keep you safe?"

"Oh Albus! It's not that. It's not! I know that you would do all that you could – that you would give your life to protect us, but I couldn't allow for it to come to that. We know what we feel for each other and our children. Is having some paper to prove it to the world really worth the risk it would put us at?"

"No." He acknowledged at last.

"Albus … there is something else … something that we should have discussed before now …"

Even without her hesitation, just the torn expression on her face made him wary.

_tbc_


End file.
